Renegade Fire
by Sperare
Summary: Five years after Clark's graduation, the arrivals during the meteor shower rule earth. Friends have been split up, some fighting for different sides. In a time where freedom seems impossible, there are always a few willing to fight anway. CHLARK
1. Chapter 1

Blood gathered in his mouth as he fought to breathe. He'd allowed this to happen in hopes of living, but that hope was quickly fading. The others around him in the truck were fighting the same struggle he was. A few had already lost. He forced himself not to look at those.

He'd been lucky to get a corner of the truck. They were treated like animals just as had been promised.

_"Those who follow us shall be given their lives; those who do not shall have theirs taken and shall be reduced to animals."_

That's really how they were being treated. They were human beings being shipped in a truck that had once been used to transport _cows_. And Clark was thankful to have gotten a corner.

He coughed again and this time the blood spilled from his mouth onto the floor. The ride couldn't be that much longer, could it? The truck seemed to answer by hitting a bump and tossing him against the wall. Maybe he hadn't been so lucky to get a corner after all, although it did mean not having to lie beside more than two people.

His mind thought back to her. They'd been separated only shortly before. She'd held his hand as he'd gotten the injection. He'd held her when they'd finally been run down like dogs. They'd run a good race, but they'd been caught eventually.

He didn't think he'd ever forget the hands grabbing him, dragging him away from her, her screams, the blood, the burning corpses-he shut his mind off. He didn't want to see those images. Thinking about things like that wouldn't help him survive.

The truck hit another bump and he forced himself to sit up against the wall. More blood spilled from his mouth and he covered his mouth to try to stop it. Instead it only came out on his hands.

_I don't want your blood on my hands, Chloe._

He stopped looking at his hands and glanced around the truck again. There was no one who was in good health there. They'd all been beaten mercilessly when they'd been found. Clark didn't know what his fate was to be at this point, but he'd heard rumors-oh, the rumors. He didn't want to even consider the rumors because if the rumors were right then Lana, Pete, Chloe...

He jerked his head up when the truck slowed to a stop. A few of the others in the truck-there were about thirty other people-raised their heads as well. A few of them would never raise their heads again.

There was a rattling sound that Clark knew to be the bar being lifted off the back door. A moment later light flooded the enclosure. Clark squinted to make out what was going on.

There were cries from the front of the truck and Clark realized they were pulling people out of the enclosure. Clark tried to push himself into the back corner, but he knew it was futile. They won; they always won. This time would be no different.

They were climbing into the truck and the cries were turning into screams as the people pressed towards the back of the truck. The already-dead bodies as well as those too weak to move were getting trampled. Clark forced himself to stand so as not to be crushed as he pushed himself back into the corner.

Bodies that stank of sweat and urine pressed against him. He knew he smelt the same way, but he'd made the choice years ago that he'd known would ultimately lead to this.

The sea of bodies surged against him. Clark fought the urge to laugh.

_"Those who don't obey will be reduced to animals"_

They were like animals now. They fought each other for the best protected spot in the group. The weakest were pushed to the front-not that it would matter. Everyone would be gotten to eventually.

The screams increased and more shoving ensued. He could see them grabbing people and hauling them from the truck. What would he do when they finally got to him as he knew they would? Time was running short for planning because the group was getting smaller.

He watched as a woman near to him, who had a baby, had the child ripped from her arms. Clark swallowed the bile in his throat as he watched them snap the child's neck. The lady screamed and became hysterical. Clark could only watch as she was forced out of the truck, her baby's dead body left behind.

The number of people dwindled until he and a few others were the only ones left. He was as tall as them, but height didn't matter and maybe they could see the fear in his eyes-could smell it on him-as they approached him.

The one that grabbed him smiled as Clark jerked against him. It didn't matter; he was carried from the truck anyway.

Bright sunlight hit his eyes and he had to blink rapidly. He began to cough again, and blood spilled from his mouth onto the ground. The one holding him didn't even stop, but simply held him away from itself as the blood dribbled from his mouth. Internal bleeding wasn't good, and he didn't suspect he'd get any medical attention.

The screams from behind him forced him to turn around and look. A few of the prisoners-mostly the ones who had been nearly dead-were being put back in the truck. The one holding him laughed softly and stopped long enough to let him watch.

Clark felt his breath catch as they dumped something over and around the truck. The others around him who were also being pulled away from the truck had also stopped to watch.

A match was lit.

The truck-with all the people inside it-went up in flames. The screams cut through the languid air. Clark turned his head away. He didn't want to see it.

The one gripping him started to move forward again. Clark kept his eyes on the ground until they reached some sort of building made of concrete blocks. The one holding him opened the door and shoved him roughly inside.

Clark immediately fell to his knees. The rumors. No, they couldn't be true, but wasn't this how they'd always started? Taken to a concrete confine, trucks burned, and then..._no_, they were just _rumors_.

He struggled forward and spotted hay around the walls, and stumbled as though he were drunk over to it then collapsed upon it. There were blankets and he drew one over himself.

His scalp itched and he knew he had lice. It didn't matter; everyone had lice now. It just mattered how much you had. You didn't want to get any of the diseases that lice carried.

Clark hadn't had to worry about that before--up until a few days ago. A few days ago he'd taken the injection to save himself--and Chloe and Pete. If they'd been found with a super-human they'd have undoubtedly been killed on the spot, just as he would have.

They were as strong as he had been. They would have overpowered him. He would have been killed without the chance to scream. His powers-the things that had always set him apart from others on earth and had always been miraculous-had failed him when he'd needed them most.

Clark curled into the hay a little more. He felt someone settle beside him and then a moment later someone on the other side of them. The one on his left was crying. She'd probably known someone in the truck.

Clark opened his eyes and scanned the room a little. The one dull light bulb on the ceiling illuminated only the concrete block walls, wet with condensation for it was mercifully cooler inside the room than it had been outside; the gray concrete floor; and the thankfully fresh straw that they were all lying on. He could see the people in the room as well, but he didn't want to focus on them. Getting to know more people only led to hurt and pain.

Clark closed his eyes again and tried to force himself to get some rest. A little more blood came up to his mouth and he let it run out, pooling in the hay next to him. He was so tired, but he saw their faces when he slept. He didn't think he'd ever stop seeing them.

He could have chosen something different, but he wouldn't-not even now-even if he were given the choice.


	2. Chapter 2

I got a lot of reviews expressing confusion. That's good.  At this point you're supposed to be confused. I promise that in the next few chapters things such as why Clark is powerless, where he is, and why he is there—they will all become much more clear.

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"Get up."

Clark struggled to open his eyes. His muscles screamed their protest, but he didn't have a choice. He looked up at the one before him.

"On your feet."

Clark could see the others around him being hustled to their feet as well. He struggled to rise and the one standing over him finally grabbed his arm and simply hauled him to his feet as though he were a bale of hay.

He didn't protest. There were others who were. "Shut up!" he heard one of them say before slapping their captive. It was the woman whose child had been killed the day before, and now she began to sob uncontrollably.

"You killed my child!" she screamed. "You're monsters!"

A look of pure rage came over the face of the one who was carrying her. She didn't even have a moment to draw a breath before it snapped her neck.

Clark learned from other's mistakes. He allowed himself to be moved and was quiet about it.

Once they were outside again they were pulled across the yard. Clark hadn't noticed it the day before, but the area was surrounded with a chain link fence. There would be no escape from this place. But if the rumors were true he wouldn't be long for it anyway.

The creature holding him pulled him over to the side of the yard and shoved him under the water spout that was there. Clark's hair, as well as what was left of his clothing, immediately became soaked as the water cascaded through it.

His white T-shirt was in tatters, as were the uncomfortable brown pants that he'd had for so long. Underwear had long ago become a luxury and one that he couldn't afford.

It ceased to matter because it simply ripped all the clothing off of him. Clark tried not to grimace. They were aliens-not Kryptonian but aliens non-the-less. They'd taken earth with absurd ease. They had Clark's strength. They hadn't had his ability to heal or his x-ray vision, but they had his heat vision as well. Strength and heat vision were just as known to them as they'd been to Clark. But, unlike Clark, they weren't using their powers for good.

He was naked under a water spout for all who cared to see. Not that anyone looked anymore-or maybe they did. He didn't know. He was still well built, but he'd lost so much weight. Apparently even Kryptonians needed to eat.

The alien pulled him out from under the water and forced him over to a pile of clothing in the yard. It selected a pair of dark brown pants for him and then gave Clark the option of putting on the clothing that was handed to him himself. After a quick look around the yard to see how you were forcefully dressed if you didn't, he quickly took the option. The alien smiled in approval.

"_This one will be good_," the alien said to another standing nearby. Clark at least knew enough of their language to translate that. He shivered. _The rumors were not true,_ he chided himself again.

"Move," it told him. There was no compassion in its voice at all. He was a rebel-a renegade-a threat to their regime. He'd been captured and was to be punished for it. It didn't matter if he was good and did what they said because it was an expectation and not a cause for praise.

He let it push him forward until his legs collapsed and he was lifted by his arms and half-dragged. His heart nearly stopped when he saw where he was going.

In front of him was a little hut and inside it, visible through the windows, was the glow of a fire. For the first time he struggled.

The alien holding him chuckled. "So you've heard rumors?" he asked. "Yes, they are correct."

Clark forced himself to calm his breathing as he was bodily picked up and hauled through the door. In the center of the room was a large four-sided brick oven. It was much like one you might find in an old blacksmith's shop, only it had a large opening on each side and its chimney went through the roof. Around the oven were chairs and in them Clark could see many people who had already been strapped down to them. The fear in their eyes was terrible.

"Please," Clark begged.

The alien's eyes sparkled with delight. He reached his hands up and touched Clark's face gently. "You will make a fine slave, pretty human," he muttered.

Clark flinched away from him. It wasn't happening. _It wasn't happening_.

"But you're going to receive the mark first," the man whispered, his mouth inches from Clark's ear.

"No!" Clark protested, but the man only laughed again and forced him over to an open chair.

Clark fought as best he could, but another coughing fit seized him and blood trickled from his mouth again. His momentary loss of control gave the alien time to snap the metal cuffs about his wrists.

"No!" he screamed again. The chair was a horrible device. Its back went up to just below his shoulder blades before stopping. On its arms were manacles to hold one's wrists down and on the left arm there was a strap that the alien was currently pulling around Clark's chest and over his right shoulder before fastening it to the hook on the top right side of the chair. The whole contraption made sure that he could neither move forward or backward, but that his left shoulder was unhindered.

He heard the moans and shrieks of others around him. _It was not happening._

_"You will be like cattle; you will be branded and be made to work."_

The alien turned towards the fire and from it pulled a glowing hot brand. The coals snapped and crackled when it was pulled from the fire and the iron glowed a furious, fiery hot red and orange.

Clark got a good look at it for the alien held it up for his viewing. "Nice, isn't it? The 'rachla' designed it himself and the council approved it. This is the symbol for prisoners who oppose the new regime. There are different symbols for different crimes, but yours is undoubtedly the most severe." Gee, that was surprising, especially considering he'd had a huge hand in destroying Chicago, Clark thought to him self sarcastically.

Clark tried to ease his breathing as he looked at the thing. Though it was the mirror image of how it would appear on his skin, he could see that it was of circular shape with small triangles adorning the outside of the circle-it was in the shape of a sun. The circle was only about three inches by three inches, but the triangles, or rays, around it reached an inch more. The only reason that it didn't directly resemble a sun was that the tips of the triangles were connected with straight lines, making the whole thing seem like a very strange looking wheel.

Inside the circle were four lines, each dissecting the others at their midpoints so that they crossed like a stick figure star, or like two x's laid on top of each other. Around the intersection of the lines was a small circle.

Clark shivered. It was a frightening symbol and one of the many that were now well known, though he'd never actually seen one burned on.

Clark fought to hold back the stream of noises that threatened to come from his throat as the alien moved behind him and out of his line of sight. When its cool hand touched his left shoulder a second later he jumped, having expected the iron. He began to desperately strain against the restraints holding him to the chair.

"Your flesh will look pretty with such a mark on it," the alien commented, its voice soft and mocking. It gave a slight brush to Clark's skin, as though to get off any dirt or remaining condensation from his 'bath'. Clark continued to pull against his bindings futilely.

He'd steeled himself against the pain that he'd known was impending, but it still took him by surprise. Every nerve of his shoulder seemed to protest as the hot iron was pushed firmly against him. He screamed, long and loud, but no louder than any of the others receiving the mark. The pain began to wane once the nerve endings were burned off, but the scent of the burning flesh-_his burning flesh_-was still enough to make him scream for mercy.

As quickly as it had started it was over and he was left in the chair, panting. His shoulder burned in protest.

The cold compress that was forced on his shoulder took him by storm and shocked him. He was confused to find that it hurt. Such a violent mixture of heat and cold clearly wasn't supposed to happen. His only relief came when the cold compress toned down the heat and his shoulder was soothed.

His pants had subsided to deep, desperate breaths for air by that time. He was all too aware that he was shaking. When the alien brought its hand to his shoulder and touched the brand he gagged and then gave up to the heaving of his stomach. He hadn't been fed since two days before so all that came out was a bit of bile and far too much blood for his peace of mind.

The alien simply laughed a little and unchained him from the chair, shoving him to the floor. "I was right; it does look good on you."

Clark didn't get up, but kept his head down and his neck exposed to the alien. These were the little tricks he'd observed over the years-observed and learned but never had to use until now.

"Get up," the alien commanded, grabbing him roughly by the seat of his pants and hauling him up. Clark stumbled with the rough jerk.

Even the muggy air that hit him when he was shoved out the door was a welcome release to the terrible heat and stench of flesh in the furnace room. The alien had let go of him to shove him out the door and he landed on his hands and knees. His cough resumed and blood spilled down his chin and bare chest as well as the ground when the alien picked him up again.

He was pushed back across the yard and towards a gate in the fence. On the other side of the gate was another fenced in enclosure with more people standing in it, all of them terrifying to look at. Some of their faces were gaunt and even those that looked physically healthy looked terrible. Their eyes looked so dead and haunted. Was that how he looked?

They barely even looked up as Clark was forced inside and the gate was locked behind him. The alien gave him a shark-like smile before turning and leaving. Clark was given no explanation-not that he'd expected one.


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, this chapter might make it a little clearer on where another character in this story currently is, as well as why Clark ended up in the situation he's in. In about two more chapters (I think) things will become much clearer. Read on and **_review!_**

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There was no shelter in the pen and the sun beat down on Clark endlessly throughout the whole afternoon. Eventually his skin turned red and shinny. His skin had been invulnerable for so long that it had no resistance to the sun, resulting in a bad burn.

There was no water in the enclosure either and his tongue became so hot and heavy that he felt as though it were made of sand. The blood that he'd been spitting up was growing less and less and he hoped it was a good sign, but when it did come up it still left a nearly unbearable iron tang in his mouth.

No one spoke to each other. By mid-afternoon when the shadows had started to get long many people had curled up around the fence at the softest spot of ground that they could find and were resting.

Clark hadn't been able to make himself do that, no matter how fatigued he was. Observation had taught him over and over again that when in a situation such as the present one that it was best to remain vigilant. So instead of sleeping he'd gone to the back of the enclosure and sat with his back against the fence to simply wait and watch. Observation had saved his life countless times. He didn't expect this time to be any different.

As of yet he hadn't been able to bring himself to look at or touch the brand on his back.

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The whole group had been left outside over night. Clark had finally curled up by his little bit of fence and had fallen into a fitful doze. He never slept soundly anymore as it was basically a death sentence to do so.

The dew had condensed on him over night, but he'd been too tired to move even if he had cared to get it off. It had actually felt pretty good anyway, for it had soothed his now-peeling skin, courtesy of the day before.

When the sun started to rise he roused himself and licked the dew off his own body, as well as off as much grass as he could manage before the grainy taste of the dirt finally became unbearable. He was frustrated to find that licking up the meager excuse for a drink only made his thirst worse. It was his second day going without water and he found he missed it much more than food.

There had only been one person in the enclosure who had failed to wake up. At first, Clark had been unable to cope with so much death. Now it still gave him a terrible feeling, but he no longer took time to think about it. Those who knew how to play the games and who had the will to live, as well as a little luck, lived. Those who didn't did not. It was one of the rules he'd been taught with absolutely no mercy.

The group of aliens coming towards their enclosure made the prisoners rise to their feet and clamor towards the back of the pen. It was always that way now. Safety was in groups, not to mention as far away from the aliens as you could reach.

But the aliens only opened the gates and set down pails of water and little tin cups in the center of the enclosure. At first all the people were afraid to approach, but the aliens went back to the front of the pen and leaned against the fence. The need for water drew the humans out.

Cautiously at first, they approached the water buckets. Their caution didn't last long as they began to thirstily slurp the water. Clark was no different--he needed the life giving source as much as anyone.

He forced himself to stop drinking too much too fast. Though it was a torture, he slowed himself to slow gulps and then the methodical refilling of his cup over and over. The others who were slurping greedily would become sick. They didn't know enough to survive.

The water was gone all too fast and the humans all retreated to the back of the pens again. The aliens still gave them no food, but merely watched them, occasionally pointing or laughing.

After a few minutes they started forward towards the humans. Clark tensed up as did everyone else. There was the regular scrambling to get to the back of the group. Clark was still strong enough to fight his way to the back.

Once his back was pressed against the chain link fence he stopped to watch the scene unfold. To his surprise none of the aliens grabbed anyone. Instead they simply pulled out guns and motioned towards the edge of the compound where the door was.

No one moved at first, all fearful that it was a trick, so the aliens cocked the guns. More shoving and pushing to get to the back ensued.

Finally one of the aliens stepped forward and yanked a woman, who looked to be about thirty, away from the group. He lightly shoved her toward the exit. "Move," he ordered, seeming to think the people were like sheep in the way that if one went the others would follow. Unfortunately, Clark thought, they weren't too far off.

The woman looked with wide eyes at the alien and shot back into the group. She tried to shove deeper into the midst, but she wasn't strong enough to force her way in and her fellow people weren't willing to risk their own lives to let her. Finally, becoming annoyed, the alien pointed to the gate and then turned back to the rest of the people. "Move, now!"

No one moved. The alien's face flushed slightly and as quick as lightning he aimed the gun at the woman's head and pulled the trigger. Clark watched her crumple to the ground in seemingly slow motion.

"MOVE!" the alien yelled again, this time pointing his gun at the group.

Fear caused them to obey and start across the yard, causing Clark to fightt his way into the middle of the group. The middle was the safest now, because if a shot was fired it would hit those around the perimeter.

The aliens hustled them out of the gate. As they were leaving Clark turned around briefly and looked at the lone body in the yard. The woman was lying face down and a large red stain was spreading over her back, disappearing under her chocolate brown hair.

Clark swallowed and moved on. You simply couldn't be too affected by death anymore.

The aliens marched the prisoners across the compound, passed the building where they'd all been branded, by the concrete block houses like those that they'd stayed in two nights before, and finally ended up in front of a chain link gate.

The gate was over a passage that went down into the ground, and Clark squinted as he looked out over the distance beyond the fences. Since the land was flat it was easy to see the parked trucks about a mile away, so he assumed that the tunnel came up around there.

The aliens split into two groups, one taking the lead and the other taking the rear. The lead group unlocked the gate and motioned for the humans to follow. They did, especially after a few quick glances at the equally menacing group of aliens behind them.

As they started into the tunnel, Clark began to think about their captors. They weren't that scary _looking_, at least not as far as physically. They were built like humans in almost every way. And the few differences were barely noticeable.

No, it was really their artillery and their mannerisms that made them frightening. The fact that they had fully conquered earth gave everyone reason to fear them anyway. Unusually for conquers, though, they'd kept their promises to those who had cooperated with them. Humans who had agreed to acknowledge them as supreme had been given very great power, though none were able to usurp the power of the alien nobles and overlord.

Clark shuddered. He'd had the chance to cooperate. He'd chosen the opposite path. He could still vividly remember the conversation he'd had just before he'd chosen to run.

_"You cannot win, Clark!"_

_"I can't roll over to this either!"_

_"Then what do you plan to do? Do you want to pay with your life?"_

_"I don't plan to die."_

_That earned him a roll of the eyes. "No one ever does."_

_"I won't do this. I won't betray my adopted race."_

_"You're not betraying them, Clark. Think about it-You could make a better way for them! You could help improve things for them!"_

_"A race will never thrive under slavery!"_

_"Those who choose to follow aren't slaves! Only the ones who rebel are to become slaves."_

_"That's only if their caught."_

_"Clark, I don't care what gifts you've got! You cannot win!"_

_"That's what this is about than, isn't it? You know you can't win, and you have too much pride to loose a fight. You'd rather pretend you're doing this for your own gain than to fight and loose."_

_"I don't know what they do to those that they'll put to slavery, Clark, but I know it won't be good. I know when to cut my losses. Do you?"_

_"I won't give up on this race."_

_"I don't want to see this happen to you."_

_"Nothing's going to happen to me. They only punish those they catch."_

_That elicited a sigh. "Then go. I won't stop you, and I won't turn you in either. But I still think you're making a huge mistake."_

He remembered that after that he'd nodded and snuck away into the night. That had been the breaking point right there. One of them had taken the vow and had risen to the person in charge of overseeing all humans, and the other had ended up in a prison camp for rebels.

Clark still wouldn't have taken the other option if he had the choice to go back, even if it was presented to him at that moment.

All the time he'd been remembering, his feet had guided him on pure instinct alone. He'd learned to do that as well. Naive Clark Kent from Smallville was gone. Sometimes you had to let go of the ideals if you wanted to survive and he'd learned that lesson as it was cruelly taught to him.

They'd entered the tunnel and it was very, very dark. There were mummers of protest as well as sharp grunts and squeals. The aliens had flashlights, but they were only bright enough to light the way for their own feet. It was part of their torture of the prisoners, Clark supposed. He'd long ago decided they were pure sadists.

Hands shoved him from behind and he was forced to grab the person in front of him to keep from falling. Normally it was every man for himself but in situations like the one they were experiencing, people helped each other.

They must have walked for a mile, and that sounded accurate, just based on what Clark had been able to see from above ground before they'd entered the tunnel. Finally, the tunnel seemed to begin to rise. A few minutes later a light appeared towards the end of the tunnel. The aliens shut off their flashlights and the people let go of each other.

When they finally stepped out of the tunnel the light was so bright that Clark was forced to squint. Everyone was held at gunpoint while the aliens locked the gate behind them.

Clark's eyes finally adjusted and he was able to observe his surroundings. It really wasn't much. The area was simply a dusty parking lot with grass around the outside of it, and there were no fences-the aliens didn't need them. The land was so flat that you could get a head start of a minute and still be cleanly picked off by a bullet. Anyone who made a break for it in this situation was a dead man, no questions asked.

"This way," one of the aliens directed. Clark stumbled on with the others in the group in the general direction that the alien had pointed. They were stopped when they got to another truck.

This one was different from the one they ridden to the camp in, for instead of solid metal the walls were metal chain link. The prisoners would be able to see where they were going, but they certainly wouldn't be able to get out.

"Get in," another alien directed, brandishing his gun again.

Like a conditioned herd, the people clambered up the ramp into the truck-all except two people. Those two broke away from the group and started running.

Clark, who was already on the truck and having again got a corner, this time closest to the cab of the truck, pressed his hands against the chain links and watched. The aliens laughed and merely shut the door to the truck and then bolted it.

It would either be freedom or death for those who had run. Clark knew which it would end up being.

Even after the truck was locked, the aliens let the escapees run a bit more. Clark pressed his hands into the chain links so hard that it hurt. Finally one of the aliens raised his gun. It laughed and said something undecipherable in its native tongue to one of its companions before cleanly picking one of the two off.

The other escapee stopped briefly and then started running again. The alien laughed once more and then fired, shooting the remaining runaway cleanly. Clark felt sick as he watched the other aliens grin and clap on the back the one that had fired the bullets.

He wasn't given long to think on it, for soon the truck rumbled to life and the other aliens stepped away from it. A moment later Clark and the others were speeding away from the prison camp. As Clark watched the compound disappear in the distance he found he wasn't sorry to see it go, but he was fearful of what was to come


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter should answer yet more questions. (Especially as to whom Clark was talking to in the flashback in the last chapter.)

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Clark watched the fields whipping by as the truck zipped along. The air felt very good on his face and feverish skin, and even the cough and his blood were subsiding, for which he was very thankful.

Knowing he couldn't avoid it, he forced himself to touch the brand on his back. He could actually feel the curved and straight lines in his skin. That made him shiver so he craned his head over his shoulder, and when he did he was sickened to see the darkened indentations in his skin. Sure, he'd seen it on others in the last few hours, but seeing it on himself was something entirely different.

He let his fingers drop, being simply unable to believe it. His mind was spinning in a thousand different directions, but if finally settled on a memory of another conversation.

_"What will happen if we loose, Clark?"_

_Clark rolled over in bed, shifting closer to her and pulling her into his arms. "We aren't going to loose, Chlo."_

_"Clark-"_

_"We won't win, but we won't loose."_

_"You saw what I saw today: Chicago going up in flames. That's going to take some major repair. We were very lucky, and you know that. But next time we might not be."_

_"It's not luck, Chloe. We survive by our wits and by what we've learned."_

_She snuggled closer against him, tucking her head under his chin. Skin rubbed against skin and he sighed, stroking her back gently. "Do you ever wish that, you know, you'd chosen the other option?"_

_She sighed against him and then answered, "No." There was a pause and then she asked, "Is that question brought on from having seen him again today?"_

_"I-yes. He was-he stood right there and helped them destroy-helped them capture his own race. I've got to wonder if he'd help them destroy me if it came right down to it."_

_"No, Clark, he'd never do that. You two-he'd never hurt you."_

_Clark had only sighed and kissed the top of her head. A few minutes later they'd fallen into slumber, curled tightly against each other.._

The scenery behind the truck was beginning to change, and Clark was no longer sure what state he was in. It wasn't Kansas, or at least he didn't think so. The land was becoming hilly and as the truck went up everyone in it shifted to adjust themselves.

The ride had to have been at least five hours, and eventually exhaustion got to Clark and he felt his head falling against the chain link. A few minute later he dozed off.

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Clark was awakened by the truck hitting a bump, causing his head to slam into the chain link. His eyes instantly flashed to the outside of the truck. He'd broken his golden rule of never fall into an actual state of slumber, and he felt a blush heat his cheeks as he realized that. How stupid.

A quick glance back told him that it was a speed bump that had created the jolt and a glance forward told him that the thing existed because they were entering a city. The buildings rose up to kiss the sky like corporate mountains.

Clark breathed in the air deeply, causing the smell of hot asphalt hit his nostrils. It grew stronger as they went deeper towards the heart of the city. The buildings, already enormous, because closer, seemingly growing in size as they did so.

Clark felt rather degraded and embarrassed when he saw how many of the people on the sidewalk stopped to observe the progress of the truck. A few looked sympathetic, a handful looked smug, but the vast majority looked at them vacantly and without emotion. It almost seemed to Clark that they were thinking about how if they put a toe out of line that it would be them in the truck with the brand on their back.

Maybe they were smart. Maybe not. Clark knew he was smart, but he was still in the truck.

The truck went up and down several more streets until it reached an area that was fairly open, surrounded by buildings. Clark had known that this moment would come from the time he'd been caught. He'd seen things like this, but he hadn't wanted to think that it could happen to him. Although if it could happen to Pete, Chloe, and Lana it could certainly happen to him, and he knew that he'd have to soon face that.

And it appeared that soon had just become now.

The truck pulled up to the open area and aliens approached it, unbolting the back and opening the door. The people clumped again, but the aliens came onto the truck and promptly grabbed them, hauling them down. Clark was grabbed as well, but against all his rules, he fought.

He wasn't sure what had made him do it, other than he didn't want to be someone's slave or butt boy for the rest of his life. Of course, struggling was practically a death sentence in itself.

The alien's eyes burned with fury as he hauled Clark down off the ramp. Rage burning in his very posture, he slammed Clark into the side of the truck and then punched him hard in the gut.

Clark tried to stand and the alien 'helped' him by hauling him to his feet, and Clark teetered dangerously as he was pulled forward towards another pen. He was seriously starting to hate pens.

The alien that had been towing him picked him up and tossed him across the pen. The pen was set up so that three sides were the same chain link metal that had been back at the camp, but the forth was the side of a building. Clark flew straight into the side of the building.

The breath was knocked from his lungs and he fell flat, gasping for breath. His cough resurfaced and clumps of blood were spattered on the ground when he coughed. He felt as though his insides were being torn up. The world swam before his eyes and then, mercifully, he thought, darkness encompassed his vision.

--------------------------

Clark wasn't sure when he woke up next. The only thing he knew was that a boot was poking him in the side. He shifted, more out of habit than anything. "He's alive," an alien's voice said in its native language. The poking went away and Clark opened his eyes.

At first the world was blurry, but after a few moments of rapid blinking it began to come back into view. He realized suddenly that the pen was in the middle of a market place, and that was why the ground had been flat and open. A quick glance at it showed him that it was now filled with stands.

He'd lived-hidden-in the city long enough to know this was how some people made their money. They'd pack up their stands, which sold various things, every night and bring them back in the morning. He was in a marketplace and he was part of the merchandise.

Clark was very aware that he was still lying flat on his stomach. He just didn't have the energy to get up. When he looked down he saw that the ground was splattered with blood-his own blood. There was also crust around his mouth that, when tasted, proved to be dried blood as well as saliva. He was seriously sick and he knew it.

A spasm overtook his body as he coughed again. His vision flickered, but he fought desperately and was just barely able to keep his hold on consciousness. The spasm finally stopped and he was disgusted by the blood and spit on his chin.

He used what was left of his reserves to keep his head up and scan the area quickly. Once he was sure no one was trying to hurt him he laid it back down. It was always best to be alert, not to mention prepared, and he hadn't given up on life quite yet.

He was about to lay his head back down on the ground, dirt and blood be damned, when a large commotion prompted him to keep it up. Even those also in the pen seemed interested, although their interest translated into fear and apprehension.

The gate was opening but he didn't care to see who it was. It really didn't matter; they were probably just a rich alien with lots of power looking for a slave. The dieing man in the corner wouldn't catch their eye.

"Yes, thank you." Clark hadn't heard the start of the conversation, but that didn't matter. And, suddenly, who had just entered the pen was paramount.

He immediately forced his head back up, although he was nearly out of strength to do so. This wasn't what he wanted. This couldn't be happening. Maybe it was only delusion talking, but he _knew that voice_.

A sharp look confirmed that it wasn't his delusion talking, because standing there, talking to one of the aliens overseeing the sales, was the last person he wanted to allow to see what had become of him. Apparently, he wasn't even allowed to die with his dignity in tact-not that he was ready to die yet.

"Depends on what you want. Stronger ones are in the back. Well, as a rule anyway. There was one who got tossed back there. It still amazes me that there are some who are dumb enough to struggle."

A soft chuckle. "There will always be that few."

His voice was so cold, so uncaring. Would he even care? Did Clark even want him to? Was his pride or his life more important?

"Here, follow me, I'll show you them."

The footsteps were coming closer. If there was one thing Clark knew to do, it was to meet things like this head on. He would get the element of surprise, though he didn't suspect it would really matter. With all the strength he had left, he kept up his head and looked up at Lex Luthor and the alien who were coming towards him.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry about the shortness of this update, but it was either this or make it like eleven pages long. No worries, though, because tomorrows update will be much longer.

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Clark watched Lex scan the crowd. At first Lex's eyes passed over him, but then they shot back, focusing and widening slightly. He let his head fall back to the ground; his strength was gone.

"That one lying down; what did you say happened to him?"

"He struggled getting off the truck. He's a political prisoner. They say he was pretty involved- he was part of that whole fiasco in Chicago. I'm told that he was docile until they took him here and, well, Ja'yek-the one unloading him-was having a bad day. Guess you can see the results."

"Emm."

That was Lex's voice again. Clark closed his eyes. He felt so humiliated and shamed, because Lex had warned him-Lex had told him that all of this was going to happen. He'd told him he hadn't wanted to see him in slavery. And then he'd let Clark go. He'd covered for him. It had probably been the only rebellion he'd ever committed against the regime.

"What's going to happen to him?"

Clark could answer that. At that point he was probably going to be picked up by someone looking for a quick, cheap fix. He'd be used and then he'd be dumped on the street to die, or they might just kill him quickly.

"I assume someone will pick him up as a one night thing. That'll take the rest of the strength out of him. He's a political prisoner so no one will bother to get him medical attention. He'll be dead a week from now."

Huh. He wasn't too far off.

There were footsteps sounding against the dirt of the ground. He really hoped someone wasn't going to kick him, because that would hurt, and he really didn't want anymore pain.

The hand that slipped into his hair and began to gently stroke was unexpected. Lex couldn't possibly still think Clark was his responsibility after all that had happened; after all the time that had passed. He hadn't seen Lex for nearly five years. Wow, he hadn't seen Lex since he was seventeen, he realized. So it had been four and half years, if you wanted to get technical, but it was really closer to five. The last time he'd seen him was when he'd made the inevitable decisions to go against the invaders, while Lex had made the decision to submit. Clark remembered that he'd just graduated from high school when they'd come and invaded. He was twenty-one at the currant time.

What he assumed (because he was too weak to actually look) to be Lex's other hand was touching his brand, gently tracing, while the other kept carding through his hair. At the touch of the brand he flinched.

"I want this one."

"Sir, he's...nearly dead."

"I've got the resources to restore him to health."

"But, Sir, why bother? We've plenty of stronger ones that don't require medical attention!"

"I don't believe I asked you to question my reasons."

The hand in his hair left and the other simply rested on his back. Clark could hear the rustling of money and the clink of change.

"We'll, uh, have him brought to your estate-"

"That won't be necessary. Get someone to take him to my car."

"But, Sir, that's an expensive car! He's filthy and-"

"I can afford it."

Clark couldn't believe it. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Pride said he'd rather die than admit that Lex was right when he'd told him he couldn't win, but common sense told him to let Lex take care of things, at least for the time being.

He forced himself to raise his head again though his body protested violently and his muscles screamed. He opened his eyes as well, and was able to see Lex walking away, the same long black coat he'd always worn streaming in the wind.

The alien that came over a second later and grabbed his arms, beginning to pull him forward, was certainly not welcome. He twisted feebly, but it made no difference. The creature simply chuckled and continued to drag him forward, Clark's pants collecting dust and dirt as he was pulled along.

Finally he simply relaxed and let himself be dragged, whimpering with pain every time he hit a rock or a rough spot. He didn't know how his body would ever recover from all the beatings it had taken.

The motion stopped and he heard the click of a car door. By that time he'd shut his eyes, being as he didn't have the energy to keep them open anymore anyway. Lex wouldn't let him get killed, so there was really no point.

The movement started again and he was unceremoniously dumped into a ridiculously comfortable seat, and he groaned as he sank into it. He hadn't felt anything that nice in _so_ long.

"Thank you." Clark noted that Lex's voice was cool. He imagined that the alien nodded. It was almost funny to see how Lex had control over another species now, as well--not that he could usurp the power of the rachla and the council. No, the rachla ruled supreme like a king and the council was like a parliament. Lex might have power, but in this culture _no one _had more power than those two entities.

The door beside him shut firmly and everything was still for a moment until a soft click informed him that Lex was opening his own door. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he heard the squeak of expensive leather as Lex slid into it.

"Wow," he heard Lex breath out. "Can you talk, Clark?"

He couldn't. He was fighting just to keep consciousness. His lungs felt as though they were on fire. He muttered something that vaguely sounded like no, though he knew it wasn't really audible. Lex was smart; he'd get the message.

"Go to sleep-or pass out-whichever comes first for you is fine."

Clark felt the car come to life under him. He was jolted against the window slightly when it pulled out onto the street.

For a few minutes they rode in silence and then Clark was seized with another coughing fit. Blood spilled from his mouth and he began to shake again. "Oh shit," he heard Lex mummer. The car lurched beneath him and then abruptly came to a stop. Then Lex had his hands on him, keeping him from doubling over.

Once he was done coughing, Lex was gently patting his face. "What happened to you? Damn it, Clark, what happened!" Most people would have taken Lex's words as those of anger at his getting himself in such a mess, but Clark knew them to be worry.

Fighting the wave of unconsciousness that he knew was about to inundate him, he cracked his eyes open and looked at Lex. His eyes held the stare of blue ones for a moment. To his immense surprise, Lex actually looked _scared_. Then he couldn't keep his eyes open a moment longer. The last thing he felt as they closed was Lex shaking him hard and actually _begging_ him to stay awake.


	6. Chapter 6

Ok, this chapter should answer a lot of questions as to what happened and as to where everyone is. Like I said on the last update, it's long to make up for the short one the day before. Enjoy!

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He felt _strange_. There was really no other word for it. At the start of everything, he'd been running with Pete, Chloe, Lois, and Lana. They'd hidden out in abandoned warehouses, in the woods, in homes of those who were only pretending to be loyal-but he hadn't felt anything like he was feeling now.

The mattress curved into his back and was both supportive and soft. The pillow that his head was settled on had to be some type of feather pillow and it was so deliciously wonderful against his cheek that he had the desire to rub up against it like a cat. The blankets were warm and soft, curling around him like a comforting embrace. Everything was perfect. His own bed hadn't even been this nice. In fact, the last time he'd felt something like this was the last time he'd stayed overnight at Lex's house.

Lex.

He remembered.

Bed suddenly became less of a good thing. With a soft moan he opened his eyes and began to try to roll over. Nearly immediately a strong but gentle hand was pressed against his chest, keeping him from getting up.

"You were an absolute mess, you know."

Clark raised his eyes to Lex's face. "Yeah?" It was really, honestly, all he could think to say.

Lex smiled softly, but Clark could see the pure steel behind that look, as well as apprehension and worry. "Yeah. You've had a bath, the lice are out of your hair, and the internal bleeding has stopped. You nearly gave me a heart attack when you coughed up blood in my car."

Clark smiled a little, despite how he was really feeling. "Because of me or the car?"

Lex smiled back, but his smile was tired. "You, Clark, always you." There was a small pause before Lex continued by saying, "You're going to have to tell me how you ended up like that, you know."

Clark's eyes immediately darkened and his mouth went to a thin line. "I don't have to tell you anything," he hissed, pulling Lex's hand off his chest.

"You're not leaving this room until you do." Lex didn't look angry, but there was certainly no room for argument in his demeanor. In fact, he almost looked mildly amused, as if Clark were a rebellious child.

"No!" Clark pushed himself up, and in a flash Lex was over him, pinning his wrists to the bed. His face a mask of tranquility, he said in a firm voice, "You are going to talk to me."

Clark struggled to wrench his wrists from Lex's grip. "Get off me!"

Lex sat on the bed beside him, still holding his wrists down. "No," he said simply. "You are going to tell me what happened. I don't care about your pride."

Clark frowned. Lex knew him far too well. Or maybe he was just that easy to read.

"I don't owe you a thing."

"Yes, you do. You'd be dead by now if it wasn't for me."

Clark stopped struggling. He hated it when his erstwhile friend made sense. "Why did you save me?"

"Because I regretted letting you leave like I did. I always regretted it and when I happened to find you in that...situation, it felt like it was my fault that you were there at all."

Clark's jaw dropped. "You still feel responsible for me! Damn it, Lex, you haven't seen me since I was seventeen!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"Friends are always responsible for friends. And I wasn't at all responsible to let a headstrong seventeen year old run off into a world where he could get himself killed, no matter how mature you were."

"We're not friends! I am not your responsibility!" Clark yelled, trying to pull away from Lex again.

In a display of strength that was uncommon for Lex since he preferred more underhanded and less physical tactics, he hauled Clark out of bed and slammed him up against the wall. The breath was knocked from Clark's lungs and he was unable to move as Lex pinned him there. Apparently without his strength he was pretty defenseless.

"The decision to not be friends was a decision you made because I chose to comply with an alien regime instead of dieing on the side of a road after having been someone's toy for a night. I don't give a shit about what you think at the moment about my morals. Taking this option has saved me and, whether you like it or not, it's saved you as well."

Clark glared daggers at him and tried to pull away. This time Lex let him go. The moment he was released, Clark headed for the door. A turn of the knob revealed that it was locked.

"What the-!"

"I already told you that you aren't leaving this room until I find out what I want to know. I think I've got some things you might want to know as well."

Clark stepped away from the door. "And then?"

"I'll open the door."

"But you're not going to let me leave again, are you?"

Lex smiled softly. "You'd be dead within a few days. You would never make it out of this city."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that? I've done a pretty good job of surviving for the last five years."

Lex sat on the bed and looked at him seriously. "Yeah? And tell me how many times you snuck in somewhere by passing as a loyalist."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Lex smiled again, shaking his head slowly as he did so. "Perks of being in the inner circle, Clark. All those places you snuck into-they had a scanner that scanned the bodies of the people. Ever wonder why a person would suddenly be descended upon by alien security and dragged away? It was because they had what's on your shoulder now and the scanners picked up on it."

Clark's heart plummeted. His face must have clearly shown his horror because Lex said, "Didn't know that, huh? Maybe you aren't as self-sufficient as you thought. Maybe I was right when I said to you five years ago that you couldn't win."

Clark narrowed his eyes and advanced on Lex, his very blood boiling with anger. "You haven't seen me in five years! You don't know what I've done! You don't know the person I've become!"

"It hasn't been five years since I've seen you, Clark," Lex explained patiently, his face passive and slightly indulgent. Clark hated it. He was not fifteen, and he didn't appreciate being treated like he was. Lex obviously knew this, but he continued talking anyway. "I saw you in Chicago."

Clark stopped his advance. "What?"

"I was there, but I think you knew that, though I also think you were pretty sure you stayed out of my sight. I had orders to shoot any rebel on sight. I had a clear shot at you; I was barely fifty feet away. If I'd obeyed the regime that you so obviously loathe and think that I so blatantly love, you'd be in a mass grave right now--if I'd loaded the gun with meteor rock bullets, that is."

Clark felt like the air had fled his lungs and it certainly wasn't keen on coming back. "Why didn't you do it?" It was a sure blow to his ego, because he'd thought that he'd been so careful and discreet. But then again, Lex knew his habits. For someone like Lex it wouldn't really have been that hard to get that close to Clark.

Lex motioned to the bed. "Sit down," he commanded gently. Clark complied, though his face hosted a scowl while he did so. "Good," Lex said approvingly.

"Why didn't you shoot me?" Clark asked again.

"I think you know the answer to that, Clark."

"I want to hear it from you."

"Because it's _you_. I couldn't ever shoot you."

"But you can keep me locked in your house?" he spat, shifting away from Lex on the bed.

Lex didn't make any attempt to stop him. "I'm not going to keep you locked in my house. But I can't let you walk out into all that again. I won't let you die out of pride."

"How do you plan to stop me?" he asked flippantly. "Because besides by physical force you won't be able to make me stay."

"I'll have your word."

"My _word_!" he asked, unbelieving at first. Lex couldn't be serious. "I'll never give you that!"

Lex looked at him sadly. "I'm not your enemy."

Clark glared at him hatefully. "Yes, you are. You helped this world become what it is."

"I'm your friend, Clark, and I want to help you."

"I don't need your help. What I need is to get out and find Chloe, and Pete, and-never mind." He felt his voice getting choked up. None of his friends were probably even alive anymore.

"And I can help you."

"I don't want your help!"

"But you desperately need it."

"I DON'T!" His anger, pain, and frustration boiled over. He could feel his face reddening.

Lex's face turned to a mask of fury again. "Yes, you _do_!" he shouted, grabbing Clark and flipping him on his back. Not even bothering with the buttons, he ripped Clark's shirt off and shoved him roughly onto his chest. "That right there," he shouted, pointing to the brand on Clark's back, while still holding him down, "tells me differently!"

Clark yanked against Lex's hold. "Don't touch that!"

Lex shoved him into the bed, but Clark could feel the older man's anger abating. "Are you ashamed, Clark?" he asked quietly. "Are you ashamed to have it?" Fingers brushed the brand quickly and then were gone. A moment later Lex stopped holding him to the bed.

Clark sat up and scowled at Lex. "You don't have any right to be doing this."

Lex sighed and ran a hand over his head. "Will you put your stupid pride aside for just a moment! Look at this with logic! You can't even get into a grocery store with that on your shoulder."

"Then get me a skin graft and let me leave," he muttered.

"And just where would I get the resources to do that, Clark? _I_ can't even pay off the doctors who know how to give a skin graft, because the regime pays them more to turn in the person bribing them than I could to keep them quiet. I can bribe most of the professions in this new world, but doctors aren't on the list."

"Damn it," Clark swore softly.

"You've got to talk to me, Clark. I'm only trying to help." Lex's voice turned soft and comforting, almost like a verbal caress. When Lex had wanted something from a fifteen year old Clark that had been the voice he'd always used. When he'd wanted to explain something crucial to him, but didn't want him to get upset, that voice was used also. In the currant case, it was being used in both applications.

And even though Clark wasn't fifteen anymore, it was a sound he'd very much missed. It was like a balm; it made him feel safe. For the first time that day, he lifted his eyes up to willingly look at Lex. "There's nothing you can do."

Lex reached forward and gently took Clark by the arms, holding him still. Despite the size difference, Clark had always felt smaller and most definitely not in control whenever Lex had done that. This time was no difference. "How'd you end up in that market?" Lex asked, his voice never changing and his eyes never leaving Clark's face.

Clark hesitated for a moment, but Lex's fingers squeezed his arm gently and somehow he knew that was reassurance. "I-I got caught."

Lex nodded slightly and got up off the bed to get a chair. When he returned with it, he sat it down in front of Clark and then settled himself in it. "How did you get caught?"

Clark blinked a few times. The truth was that he didn't really know. He'd just heard the sounds, known the imminent threat, and had made the only decision he had left to make. "I-Chloe, Pete, and I-we were underground. It was a good hiding place. I don't know how they found it. Chloe, Pete, Lana, and I had been living there. Lana was out on business; I don't know what happened to her."

Lex faced twisted into something that might have been described as anger. Clark looked at him in confusion. What did Lex have to possibly be mad at him for in that statement?

Lex seemed to sense his thoughts. "I'm not angry with you, Clark. It's just-it's all starting to make more sense," he said with a deep sigh. "Why didn't you fight back? In fact, how did you even get hurt?"

Clark flinched. Lex had never actually come out and _told_ him that he knew of his powers, but the folder that Lex had given him when he'd walked in on Jason mugging him in the barn in his senior year--it had told Clark that Lex knew pretty much everything. But Lex still hadn't asked.

"Injection," he muttered. "They're as strong as I was. They'd have snapped my neck in fear the second they saw I didn't bruise or bleed-even they're not invulnerable. It wasn't like I could have fought them all off. And with strength equal to mind they could have killed me."

Lex nodded understandably. "Where did you get the serum for the injection? I assume it had meteor rock in it?"

Clark nodded. Lex really did know _everything_, or at least was incredibly quick on the uptake. "I-I got the stuff from Lana. We had to work to make it, but we got it eventually."

Lex's jaw clenched and he exhaled deeply. His face was a picture of frustration and hidden anger. "Did you inject yourself?"

He shook his head. "Pete did it for me."

Lex nodded understandingly. "Where was Lana?"

Clark shrugged. "Don't know. She'd left a few hours before."

"Bitch," he muttered softly.

Clark blinked a few times. That was certainly not what he'd expected. He'd always though Lex had liked Lana. "What?"

"If she'd had her way you'd be dead now." Lex's face was hard as stone, and he looked furious but in the contained way that he always did.

Clark's jaw dropped. "Don't talk about her like that! She hid out with us for years. She was part of everything in Chicago! She-"

"-Is living quite comfortably in a mansion in Denver, Colorado: The city you were just sold in."

Clark could have sworn that his heart had ceased to beat. "You're lying to me," he whispered.

"Am I, Clark?" he asked, his voice tired. "Do you really believe that?" Lex placed his face in his hands and sighed again. "Or is that what you want to believe?"

"Lex, what? Why would she-she-_no_!"

"She believed in your cause, but she wasn't cut out to fight for something that important. She was tempted by the wealth and luxury that she could gain by turning you all in."

"Like you?" Clark always had been good at irrationally lashing out at people when he was hurting. By this point Lex knew that and didn't take it too seriously-but it still obviously hurt.

"I would never turn you in," he said, exhaustion evident in his voice.

"And why should I believe she would? Because if she turned me in she turned in Chloe, who was her best friend, and Pete, who was her boyfriend."

"A person can crack, Clark. She probably decided that what she'd gain was worth what she'd loose. With the money she's got now she can buy two new best friends as well as a new boyfriend."

"I-you're serious," he breathed. Devastation was spreading through every bit of his body. For nearly five years he'd hidden out with Lana. Five years that they'd sat together talking, discussing when times had been better and how they'd become better again. Besides Chloe, she'd been his biggest confident. How long had she been planning the betrayal of her friends? How long had see been planning her Judas kiss that was priced at a lot higher than thirty pieces of silver?

"I wouldn't ever play with you on a subject such as this."

"I know." And Clark did. There were some things that he could never cease to trust Lex in, and if he was completely honest with himself, he knew that trusting him to not betray him was one of those things.

"What happened once you injected yourself with the serum and Lana left?"

"I, Lex-I don't know. We heard the noise outside, and we knew it was over. I took the serum and I passed out for I don't know how long. I woke up and Chloe was holding me and then I was holding her, and the door broke down, and they came in-.

"I don't know after that-I really don't. I kept trying to hold onto Chloe and someone was hitting me, but I wouldn't let go so they pried me off her and I don't know-there was so much pain. Someone was hitting me and I heard Chloe scream. Then there was this smell-there had been a few other people in the room next to us hiding out. A couple of them were really sick. But the smell was awful and I opened my eyes just a little bit, and they were burning the people who had been sick--I think they were dead before they burned them--damn, I hope they were. I got hit again so I shut my eyes. Pete was yelling too and then there was a grunt that sounded like him. Something hit me hard over the head and I blacked out. Next thing I know, I'm in a truck coughing up blood."

Lex's expression was hard to decipher. If Clark had to pin a word to it he'd have said it was almost...sad. "So you don't know where Pete and Chloe are?"

Clark shook his head. "I just woke up on the truck. I fought my way to the back and curled up there for the remainder of the journey which, as best as I could tell, lasted two days."

Lex shook his head. "Two days..."

"No food, no water. People died."

"And they didn't unload the bodies, did they? You were in a truck with dead bodies."

"I'm not the naive fourteen year old that you met on that bridge, Lex-not anymore, anyway."

Lex looked almost sick. His face had paled and Clark wondered if maybe after he'd had time to sit down and examine what had happened he'd feel sick too. "The brand?"

Clark shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

Lex only nodded. "I can understand that. Besides, I know how it's done anyway; I've seen it done."

"You have...no idea," Clark whispered, but he wasn't mad, and Lex knew that. "I've got to find Chloe and Pete, Lex."

"We will."

"There's no 'we' in this."

"There is now, because I'm not letting you give yourself a death sentence."

"So I'd be a runaway. So what? I'd just be re-sold and since I'm not half-dead anymore, I'd probably just end up being a worker."

Lex looked at him in a way that could only be described as politely incredulous. "You're far too handsome to be 'just a worker'."

Clark blushed. It was a habit he'd never quite learned to control. "I can't stay here."

"Why not?"

It was a simple question, and Clark was hard-pressed to find an answer that Lex wouldn't be able to refute. Finally, after a few moments of thinking, he answered, "Because everything you've got here-it's been made from going along with _them_."

To Clark's surprise, Lex smiled. "Do you honestly think I'd ever really mindlessly follow anyone? I've got my own power plays. I have power, Clark." In a flash the Lex he'd known when he was fourteen had vanished and the much more ruthless Lex was there in his place. "You took the opposite path out of stubborn pride, instilled in you by your father, and because you were too pig-headed to see how setting just a little pride aside could help you to keep any at all, you lost everything. I found you lying on the ground, half-dead. Was that what you wanted?"

Clark stood up off the bed. "I don't think that very many people ever consciously say they want to lie in the dirt and die, Lex." His tone was flippant, but Lex had hit home. Both men knew it.

"And you still just can't bend a little. You know what happens to things that can't bend, Clark? _They break_."

Clark shivered. "I won't." He sounded as though he were whining, even to himself. Lex always had possessed a way of making him feel younger and older at the same time.

Lex's demanor shifted yet again. This time it was back to being soft and understanding. "You won't? Clark, I won't let you kill yourself."

"I'm not your responsibility, Lex. I'm twenty-one."

"Then stop acting like you're five. We're going to find Chloe and Pete, but you've got to let me help. You'll never find them otherwise."

Clark placed his hand over his mouth in a gesture of pure stress. "So what you're saying is that you want my word that I won't leave your house, and in return you'll help me find them?"

Lex nodded. "Yes. I'll find your friends for you, but you can't go looking for them. It's as good as a death sentence if you do."

Clark simply looked at him for a moment and then finally nodded. "Fine," he whispered.

A smile graced Lex's features. "Get some rest. I'll get you up when dinner's ready."

Clark slipped back under the covers and let him go. At that moment he'd never hated the fact that he kept his word more.


	7. Chapter 7

The bed felt ridiculously good, but the hand shaking him awake only annoyed him. "What?" he mumbled drowsily.

"I told you I'd wake you for dinner."

Ah, yes. Lex. He remembered. He turned over to face Lex and yawned. "Now?"

"Yes, now."

Clark groaned and stretched a little as he sat up. Once he was up, Lex handed him some clothes. Blue button-up jeans were something he'd probably never see again, but these black pant were nice; kind stretchy, pretty soft, all around good. Clark took them and was a little shocked to see boxers with them. Underwear was a luxury.

He headed to the bathroom, knowing that Lex would wait for him in his room. When he immerged with the clothes on he wasn't disappointed, but the smirk on Lex's face told him all too well that Lex knew how much he was enjoying having nice clothes again.

"How long has it been since you've eaten something decent?" Lex asked slowly.

"Define decent."

"Something that wasn't bought at a grocery store, or, more likely, stolen. Basically something that someone else cooked for you, because I know what you're cooking is like."

Clark looked at him blankly, purposely ignoring the jab at his cooking. "Frankly, Lex, I don't think I've had anything you'd consider decent since this whole thing started. Canned foods have become a delicacy over the past year."

Lex shook his head. "You were letting yourself starve?"

"I wasn't starving. With my abilities I could steal from the grocery stores."

"But you could only steal the unguarded thing because even with your speed you'd be caught if you went for anything guarded," he said knowingly.

Clark shrugged. "More or less, yeah."

Lex groaned and headed towards the door, motioning for Clark to follow. Clark did so willingly because, whether he wanted to tell Lex or not, he really was hungry and had been for a very long time.

Lex's new mansion was nice, but Clark liked the castle better. This new one-it just didn't seem like Lex. He was relieved when they reached the kitchen.

Lex motioned to the table and Clark plopped down. "Normally, I'd let you have filet min yon, but it'd be too rich for you at the currant time."

Clark thought the soup that was put down in front of him would be just fine. He really had to work to not just tip back the bowl and drink it. Lex watched him with an amused expression on his face. "But apparently this is fancy stuff for you."

Clark felt anger boil slightly in the pit of his stomach. "Look, Lex, I get that you didn't like my decision to refuse to fall into this life, but could you really just stop reminding me about what you've had and I haven't?"

There was something that might have been akin to remorse on Lex's face, but it was gone too quickly for Clark to decide if it had really been there at all. "I don't want to see you killed, is all."

Clark finished his soup and stood up. "What is it with you! I'm not going to get killed! I can take care of myself, Lex."

Lex stood up as well. "Can you?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. "Can you really? Because if you can I'd really like to know why I found you lying on the ground in a marketplace."

Clark narrowed his eyes. "Because I stayed to protect my friends. I could have gotten away."

Lex's eyes blazed with fury. "Don't you ever insinuate that I wouldn't do the same."

Clark squared his shoulders, sensing the coming fight. It was like when the air changed before the storm and there were enough proverbial storm clouds in that room right then to tell anyone to take shelter. "I never did. Guilty conscience, Lex?"

Apparently that had been enough, because Lex turned around and stormed out of the kitchen. Clark was quite alright with that until he tried to leave as well and found that Lex had locked him in. "Bastard! Let me out!" he yelled.

No one answered. Finally, in a huff, he sat down in a chair to wait. Lex was obviously up to something, and apparently he'd just have to wait for his return to find out what it was.

------------------------------

It was three hours before Lex came back. Clark rummaged around and found some more food in the time being, although he was careful about what he ate, because, as much as he hated to admit it, Lex was right about not wanting to make himself sick.

When the door opened and Lex came back in Clark hissed, "Don't ever do that again."

"Shut up." Lex voice was cold and cruel. It was a voice Clark had almost never heard in Smallville. "I don't want to hear it."

Clark simply glared as Lex stood before him. He was unprepared for the folder that was thrown down onto the table before him. "What's this?" Clark asked suspiciously.

"You think you don't need help? You think you can handle anything? Take a look in that folder, then."

Clark narrowed his eyes and cautiously pulled the folder towards himself. Very slowly he opened the cover to it. He was shaken by what he saw.

Pictures

Pictures of people in situations worse than even he'd seen-and he'd seen pretty bad. He turned away, felling sick. They took _pleasure_ in what they did. They _documented_ it. He forced himself to look back. There were records of Chicago there. There were records of the dead. Automatically his eyes scanned to the section on the "L's".

Lois's name was there. He pushed the paper aside and saw a picture of the rachla watching as humans were lined up against a wall and systematically annihilated.

His Dad was one of the people in the picture.

His throat closed immediately. Lex had obviously done that on purpose. Clark knew why he'd done it; known that he was only trying to show where pride would get Clark, where thinking he didn't need help would get him. But, damn it, it hurt. Seeing that picture hurt.

He pushed it aside to the last picture, which depicted the scene after the shooting had taken place. The bodies-his father's body- lay strewn haphazardly on the ground, blood everywhere, and the rachla was standing there smiling. Clark swallowed and then promptly vomited on the floor.

Lex's shoes come into view, but he didn't look up from the floor. He didn't want to see Lex's face.

"That's where pride gets you, Clark," he says softly, and Clark could hear the sympathy under the firmness. He thought he might be fifteen again, and Lex was back to teaching him lessons.

"He-I-" he stuttered, standing up.

"Shhh."

Lex putting an arm around him and helping him up really wasn't what he expected. It wasn't exactly unwanted, because he wasn't sure he could stand anymore, but, really, what he wanted was an escape from himself and what he'd just seen.

"You're going to let me help you, Clark, because I won't see you end up like that."

"Were-were you t-there?" Words felt foreign on his tongue, and he couldn't seem to get them out. Maybe he really didn't want to, but he knew that he had to know this.

"Yes." Lex wasn't beating around the bush. "Yes, I was. I tried to help your father when he was in a political prison. He refused my help, rebuffed my best attempts to save him, and instead he tried to escape with the other prisoners you saw. By the time I found out what had happened the execution was already set and the prisoners were already lined up. I couldn't do anything."

Clark's stomach rolled again. That was his father, the strongest man he knew. "He-He's dead."

"Yes," Lex murmured, pulling him back into the chair he'd just left, seeming to think better of moving him. "Did you think he was still alive?"

"I-he was so strong-I didn't think-"

"I shouldn't have showed you that," Lex said suddenly, and Clark could hear the regret in his voice. "I wanted you to understand, though."

"I knew Lois was dead. I was in Chicago."

Lex laughed and sat across from him. "I know. You did a damn good job there."

He hadn't expected praise for that and certainly not praise from Lex. "What?"

"You think I didn't know who planted those bombs? No one else had the skills. You're just lucky you didn't get caught."

"I don't like to think of it as luck."

That elicited another laugh from Lex. "Please, I was able to get close enough to shoot you. You're lucky to be alive."

"No one else would have known my patterns well enough," he mumbled, the picture of his dad still flashing behind his eyes. But Clark had lived in a world that had presented him with gruesome sights everyday for five years. He'd learned to push things to the back shelf of his mind-those who didn't learn went insane.

Lex looked at him knowingly. "I still don't know how you all got out of the city."

"We didn't," he whispered. "Lois died."

Lex nodded. "I know. A bullet picked her off. She had the best military training of any one of you and yet she still left herself unprotected."

"She was trying to save...Lana," he remembered.

"You think I don't know that?"

Clark shrugged. "How would you?"

"Because I watched it happen. I watched Lois covering Lana as they both ran and I watch Lana take a bullet to the leg. If Lois had kept going she'd have probably made it to safety, but she stopped to keep them away from Lana. She got a bullet to her chest and then suddenly she and Lana disappeared. Lois's body was found a short ways away."

Clark was sure he looked stricken. "I-she was dead. I tried-I did CPR, but she took a bullet. I couldn't do anything."

"She died saving a friend."

"Who betrayed us all."

Lex looked at him sadly. "The city burned and the empire took a great hit. I bet if you ever thought I'd be proved wrong it was on that day."

Clark shook his head. "I was too busy mourning over Lois. Chloe was...distraught."

"Your side won't win."

"Is that why you wouldn't join it?"

"I won't fight for a loosing cause, not matter how much I believe in it. I'd prefer to join the winning one and get power to make things how I want them from there-or double cross the winning cause."

"That's cowardly."

He tried to jerk away when Lex grabbed the sides of his head, his fingers curling into his hair. "Put. Your. Pride. Aside," he growled before roughly letting Clark go.

Clark sat back. "What is it that you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you." Lex was serious too when he said that. "I just don't want to see everyone that I ever did or still do care about dead."

"Don't be melodramatic."

"I'm not. Everyone I care about seems to die."

Clark gave him a skeptical look. Lex's mother, he knew, but other than that...

"My mother, Pamela, my father-"

"You hated your father," Clark noted.

"But he was my _father_, and as much as I hated myself for it I loved him."

Clark nodded slowly. "Yeah..."

"Who's your real father, Clark? Where is he?"

"He's dead."

Lex's lips curved into a small smile. "You're avoiding my first question."

"I thought you knew everything about me. How did you even find out about me anyway?"

Lex's smiled grew. "I got those seven weeks back shortly after you told me that my father killed his parents. That apparently triggered the memories."

Clark swallowed heavily. Well, that explained how Lex knew he wasn't human. Maybe he'd better be careful about just what he said.

"So perhaps you should be more careful when you insinuate that I wouldn't stay to protect my friends."

Clark felt like his lungs were in a vice. "Impaled upon your own sword," were the only words that came to mind. "I was sixteen. You were yelling at the top of your voice that I tossed a car."

"I was drugged. But I understand, Clark. You don't see me holding it against you."

"Your benevolence is insipireing." He'd intended for it to be more biteing than it came out.

"Now, my first question, Clark. Who was your father?"

Clark sighed heavily. "His name was Jor-el, and he was from the planet Krypton. They sent be away because it was being destroyed." He paused and looked carefully at Lex. "What is it that you're after, Lex? What do you think you can change?"

Lex laughed softly. After a moment of silence he replied steadily, "I'm after the ability to survive; to protect myself; and, when the time's right, to help stop the madness that this world's fallen into."

"So you're part of your own personal rebellion?" he asked, the idea turning over in his head. Lex always had possessed a way of taking ideas of normal people and making them so much bigger and better; grander.

Lex grinned slightly. "You might say that."

"What are you doing?"

"It's better if you don't know," he told him seriously.

Clark sighed deeply. Lex was so darn secretive. "Alright, then tell me about Chloe and the others."

"I'll find them." He looked so serious when he said those words that Clark couldn't help but believe him. Confidence seemed to radiate from Lex, and, really, Clark had never met anyone as self-assure as Lex.

"How?"

"I know where you were captured. All I've got to do is request that the people in that party are given to me." A malicious grin spread over his lips. "You'd be surprised how much sway I hold in matters like these."

Clark sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You know, Lex, I really don't think I would be surprised. You got a way of holding sway in just about everything that you decided you want to influence."

Lex's grin grew and became more pure. "Come with me," he told Clark as he got up and headed for the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Clark followed Lex out into the hallway, Lex's grin telling him something was up, even if he didn't know what it was. But with Lex it was bound to be interesting.

In the hallway he marveled again at how luxurious Lex's home was. It was so strange to think that he'd been living in squalor of years, and Lex had been living better than he had before, if that were possible. He supposed that they'd both made their choices, and Clark didn't regret the ones he had made.

Lex led him down the hall to another room. He opened the door for Clark, ushering him inside. Clark wasn't really surprised to see that it looked something like an office...only _more_.

Maps and diagrams were everywhere. A large set of filling shelves held newspapers that, according to the labels, were from the time everything had started to the present. The earliest year date was 2005. Lex strode over to it and opened the cabinet. For a moment he fished around before pulling out a newspaper from 2008.

Lex held it up for him and Clark grinned when he saw the caption. "Chicago in Shambles!" it read. Clark laughed softly. "Guess we did a better job than anyone really wanted to admit."

"Oh, I never denied just how much of a blow you dealt to the government that day. I applaud you, especially knowing that you were one of the ones who orchestrated it," Lex said seriously, his face completely truthful.

Clark laughed slightly and took the newspaper from Lex. He felt so old-too old. He was twenty-one for goodness sakes. He should still be in college, talking with friends, going out to party. A laugh bubbled up in his throat and threatened to escape when he thought of how he was standing with Lex, talking about his accomplishments in insurgency rather than living the life he'd imagined when he was younger._ This_ was never what he'd thought would happen.

"It didn't work though."

It took Clark a moment to remember Lex was talking about Chicago. Trust Lex to bring him back to reality.

"You still met the same end. And you know what? I knew that. The night after Chicago I went to my study, got a glass of scotch, and sat on the couch contemplating how long it would take for you to fall. Even then I knew you would."

"You happy about it?" Clark asked, his voice regaining an edge. The point that Lex seemed to be trying to make changed like the Kansas weather. A moment ago he'd been telling Clark that he'd done well, but now he seemed to be trying to impress upon him how he'd ultimately failed.

"Happy?" Lex asked, his mouth twisting into a smile as if Clark were a toddler that had just said or done something particularly funny. "Happy? No, I'm not happy, I'm just practical."

"You didn't fight, because you knew you were going to fail," Clark noted. Lex had never been one for lost causes.

"I prefer to take the way that will allow me to eventually win. You never could see the forest for the trees, Clark," he said seriously. The smile hadn't yet faded from his face, and it was irrationally irritating Clark.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The smile grew again, and Clark got the distinct impression that Lex was playing with him. "Exactly what I said, Clark. You can't see the forest for the trees. You can't see the big picture. I don't care how you put it, but you know what I mean."

"No, I don't think I do," he replied coolly, although if he was honest with himself he did.

Lex moved behind his desk and sat down in his chair, bringing one leg slightly over the other in a pose that would seem almost...feminine for anyone but Lex. But Lex had such a way of taking things that weren't _normal_, per say, and making them seem so very natural that you didn't even realize he was doing them. "Please, Clark, you're smarter than this."

Clark came over to the desk and placed his hands on it, bending over slightly. "You're playing with me."

Lex shook his head, but his eyes glimmered with mischief. "I'm not; I'm simply challenging you."

Clark snorted softly and leaned back off Lex's desk, crossing his arms instead. "I can see the big picture just fine, Lex."

"Can you?" he asked, his playful mood disappearing completely and a persona of seriousness overtaking it. "Can you really? You were so intent on refusing to submit that you concentrated on only making sure you gave nothing. If you'd only opened your eyes a little-the gains you could have made, they'd have been amazing."

Lex stood up from his chair again and went over to a file cabinet behind his desk. "You see, Clark, I saw the big picture, and because of it I've still got a fighting chance at winning. You, while you did some good things and did some serious damage, have landed yourself in a position where you're out of luck as well as freedom." Lex reached into the file cabinet and pulled out yet another folder.

"What's that?" Clark asked suspiciously.

"It's a complete account of the area and people I currently hold command over."

Clark scanned the numbers quickly. He hated it when Lex made his points.

"Notice how many are alien."

So Lex had done what he'd always done-manipulated people into being under his control rather than physically forcing them. But hadn't that always been how it was? Lex used mind games, Clark used brute force. That wasn't to say that they didn't possess the other quality. No, Clark had seen Lex take out a good number of men, and Clark was still a brilliant strategist. Hadn't he had to be to have planned Chicago? But of the two, Lex had always been the calculating one. It had paid off now.

"They're all under your thumb?" Clark asked slowly, wetting his desperately dry lips with his tongue.

"Yes." Clark didn't even have to look to see Lex's smirk. "I can order them killed with only an order and have few paid off 'witnesses' testify to whatever crime I tell them to testify to."

"Is this your way of telling me that you're slowly accomplishing what I set out to accomplish, only by more underhanded and," he glanced around, "obviously comfortable means?"

Lex laughed. "You're a brilliant leader, Clark, but you can't always use brawn to conquer. Notice that empires that have used the minds of their citizens to conquer usually win? Take the Holy Roman Empire for instance. The people believed that the empire was ordained by God, and so for a long time they never rebelled. It didn't matter how often it changed rulers, because they believed they were answering to God. Other empires that were founded by brute force--Napoleon's, Alexander's, Hitler's, Gengus Khan's--they all crumbled eventually. Granted, they left a great impact, but, before the aliens took over, you still heard about the Roman Catholic faith and its many followers, didn't you? It may not be the same as the Holy Roman Empire, but it sprung from it. How many people are still followers of Alexander's, or Napoleon's, of any of the men I mentioned?"

"So what I gain through strength, you gain through manipulation. I can't say your morals are quite right, but it's very Machiavellian," Clark noted, knitting his eyebrows together and giving Lex a very exaggerated nod.

"You know, Clark, I used to think a lot about why you always used your strength to stop people--you'd always try to reason with them first, but you were never a manipulator. I never could figure out why, because I know you're smart. I think at one point I might have known you better than anyone other than your parents. So, I know that you have a good mind. But then I realized that it was because you had powers, that you never put that mind to use in tough situations. You'd never been forced to do anything else. You were physically supreme over every being on this earth."

He came around to the front of the desk and sat on it casually. "But you're not anymore. You're going to have to learn to function like the rest of us."

Anger flooded Clark and he could have sworn he saw red. "Don't you dare-don't you _ever_-don't you dare insinuate that I don't think like a human, that I'm-I'm-,"

"Alien?" Lex supplied, tossing his hands up in the air for emphasis. "Because you were, Clark. I'm not sure if you still are, but you were."

"Damn it, Lex, I think just like you, I feel just like you, my emotions are, and always have been, completely human."

"And I'd never deny it," Lex said calmly, leaving Clark looking very foolish with his unrestrained anger. "You're one of the best men I've ever met, but even you can't deny that you always had an edge because you knew that even if your very best attempts to reason with someone failed, you'd be physically above them. You were never in any physical danger." Lex's voice turned very gentle, as if trying to pacify a small child. "You don't have that anymore. You're going to have to accept help now."

"Was that your long-winded way of offering it to me?" Clark asked sarcastically.

Lex simply smiled and answered, "Yes."

---------------------------------

Lex had taken him back to his bedroom and told him to rest while he did what he could to find Chloe. It wasn't a command Clark had a hard time heeding, because a bed was so ridiculously luxurious after years of sleeping on dirt and blankets and, if he'd been really lucky, a cot.

After a few hours of napping he woke up, and, as usual, his mind went into overdrive. He and Lex's conversation didn't settle well in his mind. Lex was right, he realized. He wasn't physically dominant anymore. He could be hurt-he could bleed. Trust Lex to strip him down to his barest form.

He missed being, oh, say, _sixteen_. His junior year. He missed that year. If he'd known that the pain he'd felt with his parents loosing the baby would have been multiplied ten-fold like it was now, well, he was just glad he'd learned to deal with it, to tuck it away in the back of his mind.

There was one thing that was driving him crazy and was nagging at the back of his mind. Lana had betrayed them. She'd sold them out. After all the years of hiding together and taking care of each other, after all the times that he'd saved her, Lana had sold him and his friends out.

Clark gave up on falling back asleep and decided to go take a shower. As he climbed out of bed he had a slight bout of coughing. How strange it was not to heal completely, although whatever Lex had done to cure him had to have been good because he'd been pretty near death.

The bathroom was big and beautiful, covered with extravagant things, just like the rest of Lex's house. Clark didn't really care, though. It had a shower, and soap, and shampoo, and so many other things that he hadn't had in so long.

He turned the water on until steam pour out and then stepped him. He yelped when he realized he couldn't have the water scalding hot anymore. After turning it down, he resumed his activities of washing and indulging himself in frivolous amounts of shampoo and conditioner. Boy, did it feel _good_.

It was almost a sin to turn off the shower, or so it seemed, after having gone without for so long. But he did, and stepped from it. He went to the cupboards and rummaged around, being quite pleased to find a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and some toothpaste.

He just couldn't get over how good it all felt. But in a way he felt almost bad to be enjoying it. He had fellow rebels out there who were still going without, and here he was indulging himself.

He brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and dressed in the pair of black pants and a red sweater. Once again, he thought longingly of jeans, but he wasn't even sure that they were made anymore.

Brushing nostalgic memories aside, Clark went back out into the bedroom. He wasn't surprised to find Lex waiting for him, after all, Lex didn't respect boundaries like most people. If he wanted to come in Clark's room, he wasn't going to ask. "You look like you've just been landed in heaven. Is shampoo really that nice?"

Apparently he'd never learned to hide his emotions well-at least not from Lex. "You've got no idea."

He shrugged. "You're completely right, since I've got no hair. I came to ask, though, would you like to talk to Lana?"

Clark suddenly viewed the conversation with some serious interest. "What?"

"There's a banquet tonight. I'm hosting it, and since she's gained a whole lot of money through turning in three of the most wanted rebels, well, she's got the social status to attend."

Clark looked at him in disbelief. "So all the crimes she committed with us-they've just forgotten that she did them?"

Lex laughed bitterly. "You should feel flattered that your capture came at such a high status to them."

"So she's off free?" he asked, running his hand through his hair. How did these crazy invaders view justice anyway?

"That's the general idea," Lex confirmed. His tone may have been light, but Clark could see his displeasure. "So, do you want to see her?"

"Damn right," he exclaimed.

"I thought so," Lex replied with a knowing smirk.

A thought flashed through Clark's mind suddenly. "It won't get you in trouble? I mean, won't she report that you're harboring a fugitive?"

Lex grinned full-out. "Oh, Clark, she's got nothing to report. I'm not harboring you illegally. I technically bought you at that market. Of course, it may not be exactly legal that you're not living like slave but like a noble," he said, his voice full of laughter at the stunt he'd pulled.

Clark laughed a little and shook his head. "I always bailed you out with miraculous ability-enhanced rescues, and you always bailed me out with money and power. Thank you."

"It's a rather strange thanks, but I'll take it," Lex replied with a grin. Clark couldn't help but grin back. Sometimes Lex just worked things so well that it was funny. "Anyone who checks is going to see that you're allowed to be here."

"And if she reports that I'm not exactly in chains?" he asked, gesturing to his wardrobe.

"Then I just pretend I'm taking you to bed. That would explain your state of dress."

Clark laughed. "Never thought I'd hear that one."

"She couldn't prove it wrong," he said with a laugh. "She'll have no case."

Clark shook his head. Lex was unbelievable sometimes. But Clark had to admit, he had planned this particular maneuver remarkably well, given the circumstance. When he looked up he noticed Lex was grinning at him. He almost felt like he was back in Smallville. And, he found, he didn't have a problem feeling that way.


	9. Chapter 9

Clark had never seen so many elegantly dressed people in his life. Sure, he was wearing clothing similar to them (Lex had gotten him a tux.), but he didn't feel _like_ them. Inside he was just dieing to jump up and scream at them, to yell at them until they understood how they'd betrayed their race, but he knew it would do no good. Like him, they'd made a choice.

He hadn't seen Lex since the start of the party and Clark knew he'd long ago gone to make small talk with the other people who were high up in the system. After all, Lex wasn't one to let opportunities slip by.

Clark had grabbed a glass of champagne of a passing tray and had merely settled himself against the wall to wait. Part of him almost felt bad for Lana, for he suspected she'd been pushed into what she'd done. She hadn't been able to hold out anymore, and Clark knew that. Some people simply weren't strong.

The other part of him hated her without reserve for what she'd done to him, to Chloe, to Pete. That part hated her for giving in and giving up. There may have been reasons, but there was no excuse.

He didn't have to wait too long. About an hour after the first guest arrived she was ushered through the door into the room. Clark had to admit that she looked absolutely gorgeous in the light blue dress that she wore, her long dark hair curled up into a complicated arrangement. She wore a shawl, and Clark knew it to be because she was still far too thin to present an immaculate picture without it. Even so, she was still lovely.

Clark merely watched her for a few minutes. It was almost sickening the way she rubbed shoulders with the other rich people. She seemed to carry no remorse with her as she moved among them, and if Clark were honest with himself, he knew she'd been meant for this world.

That didn't mean she deserved to have it.

He waited about another hour until she moved out onto the balcony to approach her. She had seemed to grow tired of the party, and she'd shown the first signs of fatigue and stress that he'd seen all night. When no one had been looking, she simply slipped away and made for the balcony. Clark only smiled softly, though it was not a pleasant smile, and followed.

She snagged a glass of champagne on the way, and had walked out towards the balcony, her expensive shoes clicking on the floor as she went. No one stopped her, although she did turn a few heads. She turned the corner as she went outside and Clark lost her for a moment. Then he too turned the corner and his view of her resumed.

It was a large balcony, to the right of the doorway that allowed access to it, effectively hiding any who cared to go out upon it from the party inside. Lana had come to stand at the railing, her newly manicured hand holding the rail, while the other held the champagne glass. She seemed to be staring off into the distance, at the moon or something else. He had to admire the way the moonlight shone on her hair. She really had been meant to live in such a way, he thought again. She'd been born with the beauty and the grace to live this life and Clark wondered if maybe she had so much of those qualities because she was being compensated for her lack of bravery and loyalty.

"Nice night, isn't it?" he asked from behind her, his tone conversational.

She spun around as though she'd heard a dead man, and Clark decided that was almost fitting, because that was what she'd sold him out to be. Her beautiful doe eyes widened impossibly as she caught sight of Clark, and her rose mouth dropped open. The glass of champagne in her hand shattered as she dropped it and gravity carried it to the floor.

"Surprised?" he asked softly.

"Clark," she whispered. Shock was not a good look on her, Clark thought. "How-?"

"Am I not dead?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and giving her a questioning look. He didn't try to move any closer to her, though, because if there was one thing that Clark was not, it was someone who liked violence. Clark never, even now, liked to hurt anyone.

"I-Clark, you've got to believe me. I swear I never meant to-"

"What, Lana? You swear you never meant to betray your boyfriend and two closest friends? What exactly was your intention?"

"I cracked, Clark!" she protested, tears forming in her eyes. She held her arms out in dramatic emphasis. "I couldn't take living like an animal anymore!"

"Then you could have left!" he heard himself yelling. "No one was stopping you. But you didn't have to sell us out while you did so."

"They wouldn't have given me all this otherwise," she cried with another sweep of her arms, gesturing to everything around her. "I wanted the nice clothes again, the home, the car-I didn't want to live like I was living anymore!" Tears began to stream down her cheeks, ruining her mascara.

"So our lives were the price of your happiness? I would have died before I did that to you, Lana." He could hear the condescension in his voice, and he didn't regret it at all.

"You're stronger than I am, Clark. You always have been!" She looked almost desperate, as if she were afraid of Clark.

"That's an excuse and a bad one, Lana. You're as strong as you make yourself. Those who say that they simply aren't strong enough are only making excuses." He was aware of how hard his tone was, and the effect it was having on her, but he didn't care. She deserved what he was saying, and she was lucky that the only tit for tat that she was receiving at the moment was that of a verbal rebuke.

She braced her hands on the rail and turned back towards the sky. She was sobbing, her shoulders shaking as she did. There was a time when Clark would have held her and comforted her, but that time was passed, and it wasn't ever coming back; it had been killed by her selfish ambitions.

He moved forward to stand beside her, being sure to keep a few feet from her. "How are you still alive?" she choked out.

"What, it's too hard for you to see me? You thought that you could do the dirty work and never have to face those whom you betrayed?"

"No, I never expected to have to see you," she admitted, refusing to look at him. Instead she looked up at the moon, which illuminated her face so that Clark could clearly see the tears on it.

"Funny how things work, hmmm? And what about Pete? Did you ever care about him?"

"I loved him, Clark. I still do!" she protested, throwing her hands up and finally turning to face him.

"You tried to kill him," he spat angrily. "Love doesn't do that. I would die for Chloe."

"You're better than me, Clark. I don't know what else to say."

"I don't need your bull shit explanations," he replied, his tone icy. He carefully set his champagne glass on the railing of the balcony and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Do they know about all your little exploits, Lana?" he asked, jerking his head towards the party inside. "What did you tell them? Surely they wouldn't take in a rebel."

"I told them that I was brainwashed. That I just suddenly came out of it," she whispered.

"And they bought that?" he asked with an incredulous laugh and a very fake smile. "What am I thinking? Of course they did. The turning in of three close friends that you were sighted with on multiple occasions is evidence enough. They're not skilled in the ways of humans, anyway. That's why they need humans on their side. That's why they didn't just enslave the human race completely in the first place."

Lana swallowed and nodded. "I'm sorry."

Clark snorted. "I bet you are."

"No, Clark, I am. I'm sorry for what I've done...and for what I've got to do."

"Do?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. A parody of a smile inhabited his lips, so false that anyone who knew him could see through it.

"You-if you testify that I wasn't brainwashed-"

Clark laughed bitterly. "Bit of course! I'm a time bomb to you! If I were to slip anything to them-"

"My life would be over," she whispered. She finally turned to look at him, tears still rolling down her face. "I can't let you do that."

He raised his hands about shoulder height, akin to a gesture that you make when a policeman pulls a gun on you. This gesture was nothing of fear, though, and everything of mockery. "You didn't kill me the first time; do you think a second time will be any different?"

She nodded slowly. "I'm nothing if not smart, Clark, and I know where you're weak-both mentally and physically." She seemed to be regaining some of her confidence. Clark was slowly beginning to realize that the sweet Lana he'd known for so long had disappeared; she simply didn't exist anymore. The woman in the body before him wasn't her. "I bet you're not even legal. Do you have the mark?"

"You think I'm going to tell you things like that?" he asked with a laugh. He knew that he should have been afraid of her, but he couldn't muster up the emotion. She seemed to him almost like a little girl who had taken on too much and had cracked. He wasn't scared of her, although, he thought, knowing her mind, perhaps he should have been.

"You don't need to. If you were sold anywhere at all I'll be able to pull the records." She'd straightened up to face him, and he saw that the tears had stopped. Her perfect mouth had drawn together in a thin line. Yes, the girl he'd known and loved was gone.

He shrugged and took his hands out of his pockets, reaching for his champagne. He thought he might just get very drunk later that night. "You know what I'm capable of, Lana. If it's a fight you want then you can have it. Although, I must admit, I never thought I'd see you as my enemy."

"I don't want to be," she whispered, her expression faltering again. A look of sudden hope washed over her face. "Join me, Clark! We could be so great together! They'd accept you too, I know they would."

Clark laughed bitterly. "And turn my back on my race like you have?"

"Don't you get it, Clark?" she yelled, her face reddening slightly. "WE'VE LOST!"

"No, you've given up," he replied calmly. The came visage melted, though, when he asked, "All those times I saved you, Lana, did they mean nothing? When Lois sacrificed herself for you in Chicago, when I saved you in Chicago, did those deeds really mean so little to you?"

"No, Clark," she replied, her anger abating if only for the moment. "They meant so much."

"Enough to betray those who committed them?"

"I gave up!" she yelled suddenly, a little hysterically. "I damn well gave up! I didn't see a light at the end of the tunnel! I didn't see an out, and maybe I thought this would be the only way to get out!"

"So you betrayed everyone who cared about you, everyone who would have died for you. And now you're in too deep to turn back, because you've betrayed me and I won't join you, so you see your only option as sticking to the regime."

"Something like that," she replied, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"You're in too deep, and you know what, Lana? No one's going to rescue you when you get stuck. You picked the wrong people to pledge your loyalty to. Pete, Chloe, and I-we would have protected you. You think an alien regime will?"

"I've got the means to protect myself now. You have nothing," she said softly, her eyes traveling back up to meet his. He held her stare easily.

"And by that you mean?"

"You didn't turn anyone in, so you certainly aren't living the high life off of your own means. Anything that isn't your own can be easily taken from you. I imagine you must have been bought by some man who you're probably sleeping with out of necessity, who thought he'd bring you to a party."

Clark smirked. "I do what I need to."

Her mouth dropped and Clark couldn't help but smirk more. He'd known she hadn't really believed he'd been sleeping with anyone, and she was right. As soon as she knew exactly whom he was here with, it would be obvious that he was not, but she wouldn't be able to prove that. And while Clark didn't like hiding in the shadow of others for protection, he did trust Lex and had finally realized his need for his help.

"What would Chloe think?" she asked incredulously.

He laughed. "I imagine she'd understand, but the point is, Lana, you'll find nothing on me." He took his glass and raised it to her. "I can work the system as well as you can. Here's to a good night sleep for you, since you'll be lying in bed contemplating just what I can divulge and when."

It was a cruel blow to attack her mind like that, but Clark wasn't above that from someone who had done what she'd done. He took a small sip from his glass and then turned around and headed from the balcony. He didn't turn around to see if she were looking after him or not-he didn't need to because he knew she was, and he didn't really care.

As he slipped back into the ball room he took another sip. Getting drunk sounded remarkably good at that point.


	10. Chapter 10

He thought that he must be very, very drunk for the objects in front of him to be teetering slightly as he walked into his room. He assumed it was his room anyway, because Lex hadn't designated anywhere else he wanted him to be.

That seemed funny, so he giggled, and, yes, he was very, very drunk. It felt so good too. He wasn't thinking about much of anything as he plopped down on the sofa of his room. There was a TV there, and he was thankful.

It had been ages since he'd watched TV-since the takeover in fact. That was funny too, in some bizarre, very twisted way. Clark didn't care at all. No one was here to see him laugh at pretty much nothing.

TV was like he remembered it. It was news channels at first, branching off into other useless entertainment shows that, of course, were probably popular. Only after a few minutes of watching did Clark realize that the aliens had stripped all the programs of anything resembling with free will. Even the entertainment shows were censored, it seemed.

He laughed at that too. What better way to infect the world than by the media? Maybe he should have looked a little closer at the newspapers Lex had shown him rather than just looking at the headlines. The aliens had probably altered the content to that as well.

He grabbed at the material on the couch. Everything felt so much _nicer_ at the moment. He tried to think of why he hadn't ever tried to get drunk before. Ah, yes, abilities, he remembered.

The door to his room entered and he turned around. Lex was standing there, the top button of his shirt undone and the tie hanging around his neck. His suit jacket was also gone. "'Lo, Lex," Clark greeted, trying not to slur his words. It was obviously a fruitless attempt.

"You're drunk," Lex said simply.

Clark nodded. "Oh, yes, very much so."

"How much did you have?" Lex asked with a sigh, looking at Clark reproachfully.

Clark laughed at his reproachful look. Lex looked so _funny_ like that. "Aw, c'mon, Lex! You can't tell me that you didn't ever get drunk!"

Lex smirked a little. "I've been very drunk on occasion, Clark. But I know that I was never as stupid acting when I was drunk as you're acting right now. So I'll repeat my question: How much did you have?"

Clark paused to think for a moment. The glasses of champagne were all beginning to blur together. He'd been drinking to get drunk, after all. "Emm, 'm not sure," he muttered, lying back on the couch and flicking through the channels, despite the fact that he'd already done so many times.

Lex came over and gently removed the remote from his hand. "I don't know what happened tonight, but you are incredibly drunk," Lex said simply as if he were talking to a three year old.

"Yup," Clark said with a small laugh. "And, damn, it feels good."

"I'm sure it does," Lex replied, rolling his eyes. "It won't feel so good tomorrow morning. Come on, get up," he commanded, tugging at Clark's arm. "You need to drink some water or otherwise you're going to have a very nasty hangover."

Clark really didn't feel like moving. "Sure, Lex."

"Now." Lex's voice really didn't leave room for argument, but Clark didn't notice that in his state. If he'd been sober enough to notice he would have moved right away, because even he didn't want to deal with Lex when he took that tone, unless of course he was looking for a fight...because he would sure as anything get one.

Rough hands grabbed him and hauled him off the couch, guiding his drunken weave that was a only a parody of walking. Clark had to grab Lex's arms for support because Lex was going so fast and Clark's feet didn't want to walk a straight line. The thought flashed though his head that perhaps he really should consider just how much alcohol that he'd had.

Lex sat him on the bed, and a water bottle came out of no where. Clark tried to take it, but it slipped through his fingers. He heard Lex's sigh and it sounded almost...sympathetic. Huh, that was unexpected.

A moment later the head of the water bottle probed gently at his mouth. It was easy to open his mouth and let it in, so he did so. The water tasted nice and somehow pure after all the champagne he'd had. It was strangely welcome change.

He swallowed, but more water kept coming. He made to pull away, because he didn't want anymore. A protesting noise rose in his throat. "Uh uh, you're going to finish it," he heard Lex mummer as a hand slipped behind his head, stopping his retreat away from the bottle.

And because it was easier to drink than to fight Lex's grip on him, he did. He wondered if the room should be swirling in prismatic color like it was. The water finally stopped coming and he felt very lightheaded. Suddenly being drunk was becoming less fun.

He thought he might have heard Lex's amused laugh from somewhere very, very far away, but he was too lightheaded all of a sudden to care. He could feel himself falling, loosing control of his body, and was suddenly very thankful for the hand behind his head that was guiding him to the bed.

He passed out before anything else could be felt.

-----------------------------

Clark awoke gradually. The sheets were soft beneath him, as was the pillow under his head. Everything felt perfect and alright...until memories slipped from the back of his mind into the front and center. Suddenly staying in bed didn't seem so right.

He sat up quickly, and immediately noted how much of a mistake it was. His stomach lurched violently, and the beginnings of a headache were present behind his skull. Perhaps drinking wasn't the best way to relieve stress.

He was alone in the room, and for the time being he was thankful. He knew he'd have to tell Lex about what Lana had said at some point, but at least that point wasn't right now. His stomach lurched again, and he got up to go to the bathroom. Yet, strangely enough, he didn't vomit.

He vaguely remembered Lex giving him some kind of beverage and wondered if maybe it had helped. He'd never been drunk before, so he really had no way of knowing. But then again, Lex seldom did anything that was pointless, so he supposed that it had to have helped.

The sink was nearby so he stumbled over to it and splashed cold water on his face. That helped some, but he still felt less than good. No matter what his problems, drinking obviously wasn't the best way to relieve stress.

"No, not when you drink like you did last night."

Had he said that last bit out loud? And when had Lex shown up? "Morning, Lex," he grumbled.

"You look like shit," Lex said bluntly.

Clark braced his hands on the sink and shot Lex a withering glare. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he said softly, but his usual caustic quality wasn't there. "What happened last night?"

Clark shrugged and continued to brace himself on the sink. "I heard some stuff that I thought I was prepared for but obviously wasn't, and getting drunk seemed like a viable option."

"So you caught up with Lana." It wasn't a question by any means. Lex moved to stand beside him at the sink.

"She sold me out in a deliberate, calculating way," he explained, but his voice sounded hollow to his own ears. It wasn't supposed to hurt this much.

"Care to share the sordid details?"

"Not really, but I know that wasn't a question. She wanted out of living underground with ripped and dirty clothes, no showers, and basically no food. She knew they'd never take her in unless she did something to prove her loyalty. Apparently we were the best she had to offer to them."

Lex nodded understandingly. "What'd she do when she saw you were alive?"

"At first? At first she cried. Then she told me that she was going to take me down." He laughed at the absurdity of it.

"Huh," Lex said with a soft snort. "Doesn't want you exposing why she really turned you in, right? Doesn't want to stain her new spotless reputation as a loyalist?"

Clark finally pulled away from the sink and wiped his mouth on a towel. Why did his mouth have such a terrible taste in his mouth when he hadn't even thrown up? "That's about it," he mumbled in reply.

"What else did she say?"

"Oh, just basically that she was sure I wasn't legal. Then a little later she purposed the idea that I was sleeping with someone. I let her think that. I suppose that she's off somewhere now thinking of ways to get rid of me. Oh, by the way, I'm sure she'll look into just how I got out of that market, which means I'll be traced to you, and you know that means she'll figure a good amount out." Clark headed out the bathroom door and back to the bedroom where he began to rummage for clothing in the dresser by the bed. (He'd somehow ended up in pajama pants after passing out in a suit the night before.)

"So what?" Lex said with a shrug. "She can't prove anything. What's she going to say? 'I knew they used to be friends.'? What's that going to do? No, she'll try a more legal route."

"As in?" he asked, gripping his head as the headache began to manifest itself right between his temples.

"Oh, she'll try to prove that you're living here as a guest."

"Lex, I am living here as a guest," he replied bluntly, giving Lex an annoyed look.

Lex shot him a confident smile. "She can't prove that."

Clark looked at him and then began to laugh. "You're unbelievable."

Lex's smile grew. "You've got no idea. Do you want an aspirin?"

"Yes, please," Clark muttered. Hangovers were definitely not fun. He took the aspirin and glass of water that Lex handed him, downing them quickly.

Lex's voice suddenly dropped an octave and became very serious. "I've got some good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

Clark shrugged. "Bad I guess."

"Pete's dead."

Well, that was...blunt. Clark felt as though his brain had just stopped functioning. All those years of hiding with Pete, of knowing how strong Pete was--it was just unthinkable. Pete dieing wasn't plausible. It hurt to think about it, so much that it was almost physical.

He must have had a blank looked on his face, and that was really pretty likely since it just didn't seem to set in that Pete. Was. Dead. "You-You're sure?" he asked, feeling stupid for even asking it. Of course Lex was sure. He wouldn't have said anything to Clark if he hadn't been.

"I'm sorry, Clark," Lex said sincerely. The sympathy in his voice nearly killed Clark, because he was aware that Lex knew what it was like to loose someone.

"How?" he whispered softly, not at all sure he wanted to know, but knowing that he should know.

"Apparently there are people in the world that are more prideful than the two of us."

"What?" Clark asked, sincerely confused. That statement didn't make any sense to him.

"I knew when to cut my losses; you knew when to at least stop fighting--Pete didn't."

Clark nodded, the statement making sense. Pete hadn't been willing to submit to the aliens. He'd fought them. Clark had been willing to submit to the extent that he allowed himself to be dragged and shoved onto trucks and be all around abused. "Was he one of the ones burned in a truck?"

Lex nodded slowly. "From what I've found out he's lucky to have even gotten that far."

Clark felt sick, more so than from just the hangover. He swore softly and sighed. "I-that could have been me, Lex. That could have been me...so easily."

Lex sat beside him on the bed. "It could of, but it wasn't. You were smart enough to know when fighting would get you killed."

"No, he knew," Clark said honestly. "He knew it would get him killed and he was braver than I was. I was scared to die--didn't want to die. He wasn't willing to live in slavery even to save his own life. He wanted them to kill him."

He looked up to see Lex with his eyes closed, and appearing to be taking a deep breath. It surprised Clark that Lex was showing so much emotion. "He wasn't braver than you, Clark," he said after a few moments. "He just had a different philosophy."

Clark nodded, not sure of what he really thought. What he really wanted was to just not think. Thinking hurt too much.

"Do you want to good news?" Lex asked softly.

"Yes."

"Chloe's alive. She wasn't even branded."

Clark's gaze shot up to Lex's face. "What?-How?"

"They only brand the ones they think will live."

His eyes grew wide with fear. "But she's going to live, right?"

"Oh, yes, but she wouldn't have without medical attention. Naturally, I'll get her some. She's in a hospital that I was able to get her into for now, but you'll be able to see her soon. She got very, very lucky, Clark."

"Gosh, yes," he said with a nod. "Lex?"

"Yes?" he replied, looking up at Clark expectantly.

"Thank you." And he meant it. As much as he hated the choices Lex had made, he had to admit that those very choices had saved them all.

Lex's lips curved into one of his very rare sincere smiles. "You're welcome, Clark."


	11. Chapter 11

For all of you Chlark fans, I think Chloe will be coming in this next chapter or the one after. I really didn't want to rush her entrance and make it seem too fake. But, anyway, read on and **_review!_**

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"You'll never guess who paid me a visit today," Lex said as means of greeting as he strode into his office.

Clark was sitting at the desk, looking at maps and old newspapers. He causally spun the chair around to face Lex, leaning back a little. "Yeah? Who?"

Lex shrugged. "Actually, you probably could guess."

Clark laughed a little. "So Lana came to see you, huh? What'd she say?"

"Oh, just the accusations of how you're obviously here as my guest," Lex said smoothly, coming to sit on the desk's side. "She'll be reporting it."

"And that means what?" Clark asked, suddenly becoming a bit wary. Lex didn't seem worried, though, so he probably shouldn't be either.

"That the nuisance of a search party will come over at some random point to surprise me."

"You don't seem very worried about this," Clark pointed out, a bit confused at Lex's actions. Shouldn't a search party be cause for worry?

"I'm not," he replied calmly. "I've got this while placed bugged and since they don't have x-ray vision they can't find the bugs. I'll know about their surprise raid from the moment they enter the gates."

"Yeah? And isn't it still a problem? I mean, I am a guest here. If they come in and search..."

Lex smirked softly. "Then they'll find nothing. You've heard of acting, haven't you?"

"My skills in it have never been the best, but, yes, I have," he said with a sigh.

"Good," Lex returned, his smirk growing. "Because you're going to learn."

Clark gave him a skeptical look. There were a lot of things Lex could do, but if years of lying hadn't taught him to present a good façade then he didn't think Lex could either. Lex only smiled at his skeptical look.

---------------------------------------

"Tell me about Chicago."

Lex could be so random sometimes. They were simply sitting on the couch, watching a move--just like old times. Clark found that he'd missed old times, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he had missed Lex.

"Do you really want to know about that?" he asked seriously. Or, maybe, it was more that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Would I have asked if I hadn't?" he replied, sparing Clark a lazy smile.

Clark leaned back on the couch, lost in memories. The gray pair of sweat pants and the white t-shirt that he was wearing felt so nice against his skin. It had been such a contrast to that day, where everyone had been soaked in sweat and blood. Clark hadn't had sweat on him, of course, but there had been blood, so much blood.

"Clark?"

He glanced up to see Lex watching him, a look of slight worry on his face. "I-I'm sorry, Lex," he said tiredly.

"You're trying to brush me off."

He really should have picked someone less intuitive to be best friends with. "It wasn't my…most pleasant experience."

"Nor mine," Lex agreed with a small laugh, "But I want to know what happened."

"Only if you tell me what happened from your perspective," Clark replied. A little quid pro quo never hurt, and he really did have some questions.

Lex nodded acceptingly. "Fair enough. You first."

"What do you want to know?" He may have agreed to talk to Lex, but that didn't mean he was going to make it easy on him.

"How'd you plant all those bombs?"

Clark laughed bitterly. "Wasn't hard. They never watched the trash. All I had to do was put it in the empty trash bins after the garbage had been collected. I duct taped it down so that it wouldn't bounce around and put a layer of plastic that looked like the bottom of the trashcan over the top of the bomb. They wheeled the trash bins back inside. There were a few bombs that sat there for a week before everything else was ready."

Lex gave him an incredulous look. Apparently even Lex Luthor wasn't above being surprised. "And then you set them off together. How'd you even think to do that?"

"I get creative every now and then." Lex looked at him hard for a moment until Clark exclaimed, "What!"

"What happened, Clark? The boy I knew would never kill anyone."

"Check the death rates of aliens to humans."

Lex closed his eyes as he gained comprehension. "Of course. I always thought you were going for alien government buildings, but you went for the areas where people weren't. The fact that they also happened to be the most important places to the aliens was simply a helpful coincidence."

"I never wanted to kill anyone-still don't. At first I wouldn't touch the aliens and then I realized-Lex, they've got no conscience. You can't save everyone, and I realized that if I refused to kill aliens, more people would die. In the end it came down to whom I was most loyal to."

"And why the hell did you stay in Chicago! You should have gotten out."

Clark dropped his eyes. "I know, and it cost Lois her life. I stayed because I wanted to help the other people who were trapped and needed help. They wouldn't leave without me."

"You save a lot of people, Clark," Lex said soothingly, leaning back on his end of the couch too. "You always have."

"Lois died," he said softly. Trying to change the subject, he asked, "Why'd you kill people, Lex? The first time I saw you shoot someone in Chicago-I thought I'd lost my mind."

Lex placed his hands behind his head and she leaned back further. "Why'd I shoot someone? They tried to shoot me. I didn't shoot anyone else. Apparently I have very bad aim."

"You have point blank aim, Lex."

Lex grinned slightly. "I know."

"So you only shot the people that were going to try to kill you?" Clark asked, still not sure if he was alright with that.

"I know it probably won't justify anything in your mind, Clark, but we've all got things we need to tell ourselves."

Clark nodded, biting the inside of his lip slightly. Lex was right, in that respect. He justified the things he did. Was it alright for him to condemn Lex for doing the same? "Are you really loyal to them?" he asked after a few moments silence.

"No," Lex replied, being completely straightforward. "I pretend to be, but I've got my own things going."

"As in?" He was really actually curious. Lex's "things" were always interesting.

"Things that are more subtle than you ever thought of being," he replied with a good-natured laugh. "I always had to appreciate your style, though. Although you're the kind of person someone like me would prefer to be up against."

Clark only laughed and sank down on the couch, stretching out. "You could have killed me in about two seconds flat if you'd wanted to, Lex. But let's be fair; I could have killed you as well. We both know each other's weaknesses, and we both trust the other not to do the inside assassin thing. We're each of our side's perfect weapons that will never be used."

Lex only smiled at that and shook his head a little. Many people would take it as an insult—they'd think that Lex was insulting them and thinking them childish. Clark knew better. Lex was agreeing with him, but was laughing at the irony of the situation—and the fact that Clark understood it.

"It was always like that, Clark. You were the dream of my business competitors back in Smallville. I think if you'd ever actually applied yourself to it you could have hacked into half my files, just by knowing so much about me. I almost always used things about myself as my passwords and security, so for you it would have been ridiculously easy." He grinned to himself, as if he were privy to an inside joke. "It was a good strategy too, if you think about it. How many people knew intimate things about me? The list's pretty short."

Clark looked at him seriously for a moment. "Why didn't you have more friends?"

"One was enough, and you were high maintenance as it was," Lex answered jokingly. He saw the serious look on Clark's face, though, and immediately became stoic. "It takes a lot for me to trust someone, and very few people made the cut. Even fewer people saw--or see—me as Lex instead of Mr. Luthor. You were just endearing from day one with all your small-town farm boy innocence." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Come to think of it, I liked Chloe as well. She came to be what I might call a friend. I probably could have been friends with Pete as well if he hadn't hated me."

"He was a good man," Clark said softly.

"And the world has suffered a loss. I'm truly sorry, Clark. But this will end eventually."

"Do you think we'll come out on top?" He'd always been able to ask Lex the hard questions, and know that they'd be answered candidly. Lex was too practical to be swayed by emotions and prejudices when it came to predicting the future, and Clark knew it was what had gotten Lex so far. He could see what was coming—not what he hoped was coming. If he thought something wasn't going to work, and he was going to loose, he'd admit that and do something to change it.

Lex looked very thoughtful for a moment. "Eventually."

That was all the reassurance from Lex that he needed. Giving him a small smile, Clark climbed from the couch and headed to bed. Lex gave him that half-smile as he walked by. That smile did—and always had—told Clark all too clearly that Lex knew what he was thinking, that he was aware that Clark trusted his judgment. Clark didn't mind. He really did trust Lex's judgment, after all.

------------------------

Clark had been immersed in an ethereal dream about corn and Kansas sunlight when a hand shook him roughly awake. He groaned a little, and opened his eyes to bare slits in the darkness of the room. Lex was standing over him. "What?" he asked grumpily.

"Get up." Lex's voice was serious and all business. "Be quiet. Stay away from the windows."

Clark didn't understand that command at all, but he got out of bed and followed Lex anyway. Lex motioned for him to wait at the doorway and then he went back and meticulously remade Clark's bed so it appeared that Clark had never slept there at all. After he was done he motioned for Clark to follow him again. It was almost too dark to see anything except Lex's silhouette in front of him, and Clark was immensely thankful that Lex seemed to know his way around so well.

"Lex, what-?"

"Quiet," Lex hushed him, his tone forceful and leaving no room for argument. Clark swallowed heavily. He would have really liked an explanation.

Their bare feet slapped against the wooden floorboards of Lex's mansion as they navigated (Lex navigated) their way to wherever they were going. Clark forced himself to stay close and quiet, even though his vocal cords were practically rioting and there were a million questions he wanted to ask.

His confusion multiplied when Lex led him into what Clark assumed to be Lex's bedroom. "Lex-," he tried to say again.

"I told you to be quiet," he immediately replied, cutting Clark off. Clark forced himself to be silent.

Lex motioned for him to sit on the bed, and then went to the window and crouched behind the curtains, subtly peaking out. Clark wasn't sure what he saw, but Lex tensed a little and mumbled, "They're inside the house."

Clark was beginning to think that Lex may just have gone insane. Then Lex stood up and came back over to the bed and that thought vanished when Clark saw the look in his eyes. Lex knew exactly what he was doing, even if Clark didn't.

But apparently he wanted Clark to know as well, because he whispered hurriedly, "I'm going to explain this quickly to you: There's a scouting party here right now that has just entered the mansion. I'm sure Lana's told them what to look for, and you can bet they'll be checking all the bedrooms. I took care of your bed, as you saw. They're going to search here as well, and, for the next hour or so, you're going to pretend that you're my lover. By the way, take off your shirt. Any questions?"

Clark shook his head and pulled off his shirt. He just seriously hoped that they didn't take pictures. Although, that would give Lana a good shock, so maybe...

Lex slipped into bed next to him and pulled them under the covers, fisting Clark's hair as gently as the stressed circumstances allowed. "Put your head here," he muttered, positioning it so Clark's head was pillowed on his shoulder, "Your arm goes there," he instructed, placing Clark's arm across his waist. Lex's sweat pants were soft, but Clark felt more than a little uncomfortable.

Lex kept one hand in his hair, while he placed the other on Clark's hip. "Now, act like you're asleep."

Clark nearly laughed. Yeah, that was easy given the circumstances. Still, he may not have been the best of actors, but he knew when he had to rise to the occasion. He suspected that this little search party couldn't really touch Lex but that they reported to someone who could.

He let his eyes fall shut, and he tried to control his breathing. He was shocked at how well Lex could do that as he felt the steady breaths mere inches away from him. Pictures would definitely not be a good thing. Chloe would laugh her butt off when she got there and saw any photos if they were taken.

Clark could feel his muscles relax after a few minutes. Maybe Lex had been wrong. Maybe they weren't going to come in. Maybe they weren't even at the gate.

Clark heard footsteps in the hall.

Maybe he was wrong.

The door swung open, but he didn't move. Lex lifted his head gingerly from beside him and asked in an authentic sleep-fogged voice, "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, um, Mr. Luthor," the man that seemed to be in charge began to stutter.

Clark moved away from Lex's embrace and turned to face the man. A sharp yank of his hair stopped him. Well, that was unexpected. "Stop moving," Lex spat harshly, his voice dripping with so much condescendence and authority that for a moment Clark forgot he was simply an actor in an elaborate game. Either way, he stopped moving.

Lex sat up, pushing Clark back down on the bed. "Has there been a problem?"

The first alien shook his head. "Oh, no, there was just a report from a woman, and, you know, we're obligated to check it out."

Lex got out of the bed, but Clark remained in it. Lex wouldn't really hit him, would he? "A report? Of what nature?"

The man nervously toed the ground and glanced at Clark. Clark did his best to look pathetic and to bury deeper into the pillow. "A report that he was well more than your, uh-,"

Lex laughed sharply. Clark had to work to remind himself that he wasn't really Lex's bed toy. Lex was far too go an actor sometimes. "Gentlemen, I assure you, he is no more than a pretty warm body that I've taken a fancy to. He's nothing more. Exactly why did she think he was?"

Slipping on a dressing robe, Lex leaned casually against the bedpost. He looked incredibly suave standing there, and Clark could see why the men were practically cowering. No doubt this was how Lex had come to so much power so quickly.

"Something about seeing him," the man glanced at Clark, "at a party the other night."

Lex gave an exaggerated grin and nodded smoothly. "Well, indeed. Does this fine young woman not know that it's acceptable to take those with whom you sleep to such parties?"

"She said he approached her and she got the impression that he was living here as a guest."

Lex laughed coldly, like ice personified. "Well as you can see," he gestured to Clark on the bed, "she's about as mistaken as she can be."

They nodded. "Of course, Sir, but you know it's necessary to appease her, therefore it's necessary to take a look around."

His facial expression turning to match his previous laugh, Lex raised an eyebrow. "Really? I can't imagine that's true, but if you feel it necessary-" Lex said, leaving his sentence un-ended, creating a rather ominous effect.

"It's the orders of our superiors, Sir."

"But of course," Lex said glibly. "By all means. Do I need to go with you?"

The man shook his head fervently. "Oh, no, Sir! We'll be done within the hour and out of your house. Have a very nice night."

Lex came forward and shook the man's hand. The man grasped Lex's wrist with his other hand while he shook enthusiastically. Clark supposed that he was overwhelmed to be shaking the hand of Lex Luthor. "Leave word with my security on the way out," Lex said easily as they filed out of the room.

He stood standing in the moonlight with his hands behind his back in a most stately pose as they left. Once gone, he turned to Clark. "I'm not in the mood for anything right now, so go back to sleep."

Clark's jaw dropped at the tone of Lex's voice. He'd sounded like he thought Clark desperately beneath him and like he really was sleeping with him for pleasure. "What are you waiting for?" Lex said, his tone harsh and impatient.

Clark looked at him incredulously. "L-"

Lex was immediately at the side of his bed, shoving a hand over his mouth. Clark grabbed at Lex's wrist, but Lex pushed him backwards on the bed. Clark was about ready to panic, when he finally saw Lex's face.

His tone may have indicated harshness, but his eyes were shinning benevolently. Lex shook his head slightly, just once. Clark nodded and Lex released him. He hadn't any clue what game Lex was playing, but it was certainly confusing.

To his surprise, Lex slipped back into bed with him and pushed him back into positions similar to those they'd been in before. Clark had known confusion before, but this was definitely taking the prize. What was Lex after? Were they still being watched somehow?

He was so deeply lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear or feel Lex's mouth come up to his ear. Then, in a tone less than a whisper, the word "bugged" was whispered into his ear. It took Clark a moment to comprehend, and then it all clicked.

The handshake

The man had bugged Lex, and Lex was going to play it that way. He'd probably pretend to spill something on his shirt in the morning in order to throw it away. The people who had bugged him would never suspect that he'd known. Clark was still part of a piece of elaborate fiction. He had to stifle his laugh.

Things ceased to be so funny when he realized he actually had to sleep curled against Lex like that. It was a hard position to keep, so he attempted to turn over, hoping that could be written into the off the cuff scrip. Apparently it could, because Lex let him shift and then simply looped a lazy arm over his stomach, holding him there. Clark nearly laughed at how much noise Lex made in the process of shifting, obviously on purpose.

The new position was a little bit better, and Clark could feel himself relaxing. He was asleep an hour later when the sound of footsteps went by the door and the aliens left.


	12. Chapter 12

Clark awoke to the sounds of a shower running and the feel of slightly damp air as it touched his skin. The sound of a dresser opening could be heard and he slowly cracked open his eyes. He was still in Lex's bedroom, and Lex had clearly just taken a shower. That was what all that damp air was: steam.

"Good show last night," Lex said with a laugh when he saw Clark was awake.

Clark laughed softly and rolled on his back, stretching. "You even made it believable to _me_."

Lex grinned softly, and Clark thought that perhaps he'd enjoyed scaring him like that just a little too much. Lex always had possessed a thing for touching on Clark's innocence, but at the same time preserving it. "I had to make you look the part somehow."

"Bastard!" he exclaimed, realizing Lex had played him, although at the same time he was thankful. The whole facade might have fallen through otherwise.

"You did look the part too. The whole wide-eyed thing was very convincing. I was sure I was back in Smallville for a moment."

"I wish we were," Clark said softly. He was a bit frightened to realize he meant it. Things had been easier then. He'd only had to worry about Lana Lang and his crush on her, getting good grades, and maybe the freak of the week. Now he had to worry about an entire alien race.

Lex glanced at him, and Clark saw something akin to sympathy. Maybe Lex longed for those days sometimes too, even if he wouldn't admit it. Whatever it was, the look was gone as quickly as it had been there. Lex moved over to his mirror and began to put on a tie.

"How'd you get rid of the shirt? You know, the bugged one."

Lex laughed lightly. The sound fell easily on Clark's ears. Such a carefree attitude wasn't common anymore. "I spilled bleach on it. It's ruined-unsalvageable. It's a pity really," he explained, his face displaying an expression that showed he thought just the opposite.

"You're really too good at this," Clark said with a laugh.

"Yes, I am," Lex agreed, straightening his tie and sparing Clark a glance. "Now get out of bed; I have the feeling we're going to have a visitor today."

Clark raised an eyebrow but complied. "What do you mean?"

Lex grinned as he looked one last time in the mirror to make sure his tie was straight. "I think one Miss. Lana Lang is going to be feeling very put out."

-----------------------------------

Lex was right, and Clark was beginning to think that on such things it was beginning to be too common of an occurrence. Lana showed up at the mansion around noon. "Invite her for lunch on the roof," Lex told the slave who came to report her arrival.

The man bowed deeply and scurried off to do so. When Lex turned around he caught Clark's deep frown that had developed at the sight of the slave. "I don't like it, you know," Clark said, his tone brooding.

"Don't like what?" Lex asked, completely unconvincingly. Clark would have laughed if he wasn't so annoyed. Lex could be such a good actor sometimes, but with his friends there were times when his emotions were so obvious.

"That could have been me, Lex. You know that."

Lex sighed, finally conceding to the fact that he knew all too well what Clark was talking about. "But it's not, Clark."

"It could have been."

"But it's _not_."

Clark's frown turned to a scowl. "Don't be stubborn."

"I'm nothing but stubborn, Clark. You know that."

"It's _wrong_. He's your race."

Lex looked at Clark seriously, and Clark thought he might have seen a little remorse. "I know."

"Then why are you still doing it?"

"Because war isn't pretty and it's necessary to have help. You of all people know what it's like to do what's_ necessary_."

Clark sighed and swallowed his words. Lex had a point, and even if he loathed it, he couldn't really debate. "So why the roof? You know you can't push her off," he pointed out, only half-jokingly.

"You can't listen in through walls up there."

Clark nodded understandingly. "Will she be scanned for a recording device?"

"Most definitely," Lex said with a curt nod, gesturing for Clark to follow. Clark did, and Lex led him through a very complicated system of hallways and stairs, that Clark couldn't hope to remember, until they ended up on the roof.

"You wanted to make sure she'd have to be escorted out as well, didn't you?" Clark said with a laugh. "Marco Polo couldn't find his way back down."

"And neither can Lana Lang," Lex replied with a grin. Clark couldn't help but think that she wouldn't have made down the first three flights of stairs without getting lost, but that might be his bias. He'd never been objective like Lex-he'd never been able to predict how things would turn out without any emotional sentiment. It was one of his shortcomings, but he knew he was strong in other places so he didn't worry too much about it.

Lex gestured to the table in the middle of the roof. It reminded Clark of something distinctly French country, as did the entire roof. Even the fence around the edge was undeniably of French design. "She'll feel right at home up here," he noted. "It's very French."

Lex wrinkled his nose. "I personally hate it, but I spend so little time up here anyway that it would be a waste to change it."

"And it will serve a purpose, at least today," Clark noted.

The door from the passage to the roof opened and Lana was escorted out. Lex's face immediately became unreadable, and Clark swore he saw Lana flinch. "Thank you," Lex told the slave. "That will be all."

The man nodded and hurried back down the stairs. Clark lost no time in looking over Lana's dress coat and form-fitting black pants. She was scowling mightily and Clark grinned when he saw the tiny tare on her sleeve.

"They stripped you of the recording device, huh?" he asked with a light laugh. He was immensely enjoying her obvious anger at that turn of events.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she hissed, "I don't know how you got around that search the other night, but-"

"But what, Lana?" Lex cut in. "Didn't they tell you what they saw?"

She rolled her eyes and threw her hands up, a high girly laugh erupting from her throat. "You actually expect me to think that you're sleeping with him?" she asked incredulously. "I'm not stupid, Lex."

"Of course not," Lex agreed with a nod. "Just a small town princess who can't play this game, especially not against me."

"You're not the invincible god that you think you are," she snapped.

"And you're not really a fairy princess who can grant wishes," Clark cut it. "I think it's time we all stopped pretending."

Clark wished he had a camera to capture the look on her face. "Pete's dead, you know," he said conversationally, despite the inner turmoil that he was feeling.

She paled a little at that. "He is?" she whispered.

"What did you expect to happen?" Lex cut in, sounding as though he thought Lana a fool. Clark didn't think her a fool, just a backstabber.

"Is Chloe alive?" she asked, and Clark was surprised at the tint of hope in her voice.

"Yes," Clark told her. "That's one more person for you to worry about. And Chloe always was more vindictive than I was."

Lana shot him a scathing look and then faced Lex. "I don't care what facade you set up for the search party the other night, I _know_ you're not really sleeping with him and that'll come out."

"And you're really not loyal to the regime, Lana," Lex said casually, sipping some of the scotch he'd poured for himself. "You're not really loyal to anyone but yourself; not you boyfriend, not your best friend, and not the man who saved your life on countless occasions."

"There's no way I'll believe that _you're_ loyal to this regime," she spat angrily.

Lex rolled his eyes. "Scotch?" he asked politely. She took the drink from his hand and took a sip. Clark couldn't help thinking was a messed up version of a dinner party this seemed to be. "What would lead you to believe that I'm not loyal? I've followed them from the beginning and have never wavered."

"Because you're harboring an enemy as a guest. You're not allowed to treat him as you're treating him," she yelled, waving her hand in Clark's direction. Clark merely leaned back and took a sip of his drink.

"We seem to keep coming back to that point," Clark pointed out casually. "Is that really all you've got? Because it won't be enough."

Clark caught Lex's grin out of the corner of his eye. Trust Lex to find it fun to make an erstwhile small-town princess angry. "Especially since you can't prove it," Clark added.

"You don't have the means or the brains to take me down, Lana," Lex said bluntly, watching her coolly, clearly gauging her reaction.

"I had the brains to survive underground for nearly five years as part of the resistance. Do you think high society life will be harder?" she spat.

Lex only smirked softly. "I think you're going to find out its got its own challenges. And you won't have Clark to save you, either."

She abruptly set her glass of scotch down on the table. "Is he worth sacrificing everything you've got?" she asked his icily, referring to Clark.

"Who, Clark?" he asked with an amused grin. Clark looked on with amusement of his own. Lana was far too emotional to play with Lex. Clark had only ever been able to because he'd his abilities on his side. Lana was all too clearly out of her league. "I'm not going to loose anything, Lana," Lex replied, his grin remaining as if she were a mere school girl who was whining about something trivial. "You forget he survived just as long as you did in the resistance, and, if I recall correctly, he never needed you to save him—you always needed him."

She paled slightly and turned, heading out the door, just barely shy of running. "Was she always this full of herself?" Lex asked Clark seriously once the door had slammed shut.

He shook his head and glanced over the edge of the roof carelessly. It seemed so much further down without his abilities. "No. It's just since she's ended up here. Isn't she going to get lost on the way out?"

Lex shrugged and raised an eyebrow a little. The gleam of something similar to the way a cat looks when playing with a mouse flashed in his eyes. "I'll send someone to help her out after a while."

Clark grinned. "You're awful."

"Most certainly." He looked far too much as if he'd of taken that as a compliment from anyone—not just Clark. "Anyway, Chloe's coming here today."

Clark's eyes immediately lit up at that prospect. He'd missed her...so much. She'd been like his strength through everything and being without her had been terrible. Seeing her again would be like coming home, even if he no longer had a home to go to. "What time?"

"Anytime. We should actually go downstairs to wait," he told Clark, downing his scotch and standing up.

Clark nodded. "Right then."

They both left their glasses on the balcony and headed down. Clark had to really work to keep his calm visage at the promise of Chloe. Even so, he knew Lex saw through it, saw how much he needed her—and he was fine with that. He suspected Lex might even have understood.


	13. Chapter 13

Yup, here's the Clark (finally). Sorry for the wait.

I've had some question about why Clark seems to be letting Lex work everything out at this point in the fiction. My answer to that is Clark's just lost his abilities, has seen the some of his friends murdered, and one of the two that didn't get murdered ended up betraying him. Clark's used to pulling no punches and this kind of fighting is different for him. He's also been in charge for a long time and (though I don't say it) is somewhat enjoying having not to worry about things for a change (this is addressed later in the story). Hope that answered your question!

Also, I'm withholding the next chapter until I get at least five reviews. Don't mean to be annoying, but if I feel like my stories aren't being read then I really don't see the point in posting them up. Besides, I like feedback.

----------------------------

Clark saw her coming up the walk as he watched through the window. Whatever had been wrong with her must have been fairly minor, as long as you had medicine to cure it. There were so many things like that now, and they often caused deaths in the camps. Clark knew it had almost happened to him; it would have happened to him if Lex hadn't found him.

Her yellow hair, now falling a couple of inches passed her shoulders and down her back, glistened in the sun. He hadn't seen it do that in a long time. Apparently someone at the hospital had let her wash up.

She disappeared as she came up the walk, but her presence was announced by the knock on the door. Clark felt what could only be described as a tingle shoot through him. He'd missed her so much.

Lex didn't make any move to get the door, and Clark knew that to be because he wanted Clark to see Chloe first, not because Lex was a bad host. It was a move he was incredibly thankful for, especially when he flung open the door and a petite body flew into his arms. "I've missed you so much," she sobbed into his neck as he caught her.

She was so warm, so solid, so..._alive_. It felt so good to stand there, her feet a good foot off the ground as he held her tightly against his chest. He could feel her heart against his and the steady thump, thump, thump, was so incredibly reassuring.

"Chloe," he muttered against her. "I was so-so afraid that you were...dead."

Her tears were soaking his neck, and he wasn't positive that his eyes were dry either. "How Clark, how'd it happen?" she muttered, finally pulling away from him as he finally set her down. She stood against him, her arms still wrapped around him and her head on his chest while he kept his head protectively on top of her's. His arms continued to encircle her lightly, and after having her ripped from his arms by the aliens, he wasn't sure he'd ever want to let go again.

"Chloe, it was-Chloe, it was _Lana_."

Her body went ridged against his own. He thought her heart might even have skipped a beat. "L-Lana?"

"She sold you out," Lex's voice announced from behind them. Clark was secretly thankful, because he wasn't sure he'd have been able to explain, and he supposed Lex knew that. It had probably been why he'd cut into in the first place.

Chloe saw Lex from the first time. Clark was distinctly reminded of mongoose when it sites a predator. Clark could have sworn Chloe _bristled_ as she pulled away from him. A stream of not so nice words flowed from her mouth as she glared at Lex.

"It's good to see you again, Chloe," he said casually, grinning at her reaction. Clark wondered if Chloe knew Lex was baiting her. He suspected she did, since, next to Lex, Chloe was one of the best at reading people that Clark had ever known.

"Clark?" she snapped, turning on him.

"Yes?" he asked, trying his best to remain calm and neutral. He'd never, ever, liked that look on her face—the one that told him he was in some serious trouble.

"What the hell?"

Very, eloquently put, Chloe, very eloquently put. "He…helped me." He really didn't want to go into the details of that, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew he'd have to.

"Helped you?" she echoed, looking confused.

Clark sighed. He'd never needed saving before, at least not to this degree, so he supposed it would come as a slight shock to Chloe. "Yes," he said softly. "I'd be dead if he hadn't."

Horror flooded her face and confusion sprung into her eyes, accompanied by tears. "I was so sure that you would have escaped, and when I ended up in the hospital I thought you'd saved me again. What happened, Clark?" she whispered, the tears spilling over and down her cheeks.

"I don't have my abilities, Chloe. You know that," he said softly, and his voice sounded far away, even to him. "I ended up in one of those prison camps."

Chloe swallowed and visibly tried to compose herself. Clark was thankful when she was able to, because if she'd hadn't been able to he wasn't sure he would have either. "What about Pete? Have you found him yet?"

Clark ran a hand through his hair. How do you tell someone that one of their best childhood friends was dead, betrayed by yet another childhood friend? Chloe had lived with Lana; had been Lana's roommate. Betrayal just didn't seem possible.

"He's-he's dead, Chloe."

"Oh my gosh," she choked out, covering her hand with her mouth as the tears began to fall. Just like when Lois had died, Clark thought. He didn't think he could handle that again. "Lana-?"

Clark stepped forward and hugged her again, aware that he was crying as well. If she wasn't being strong he didn't have to be either. He couldn't be. He spared a glance at Lex's face and was only mildly surprised to see the sympathy with which Lex was regarding Chloe, as well as himself.

It was a bittersweet reunion, and he wished Pete had been there to share it.

-------------------------------

Chloe had gotten control of her emotions at long last. Not that Clark blamed her—he hadn't been in control of his either. Lex had suggested that Chloe share a room with Clark, and he hadn't been about to turn that down.

He didn't know where Lex had turned up underwear for a girl, but he certainly appreciated that, not to mention Lex's taste in it, either. Chloe looked unbelievably hot. Then again, he was pretty sure she could have worn a paper bag and looked incredibly hot.

He hadn't really slept with her in a bed for the longest time. Sure, they'd slept on blankets and maybe even a worn mattress if they were really lucky, but not a bed. It felt unbelievably good.

She seemed to almost glide out of the bathroom in that distinctly Chloe way. She contained so much grace in her steps, but also an element that demonstrated her confidence as well. It was one of the many things Clark loved about her.

She joined him on the bed, and the pair of gray sweatpants he was wearing suddenly felt far too hot. They needed to come off, as did the shirt. Then he remembered the tattoo.

He didn't want Chloe to see it. She didn't have one, Lex had said. It was a mark of...subjugation, and he didn't want her to think of him like that. He swallowed hard and inched down against the bed as she came to sit next to him.

She had a predatory grin on her face which mingled with love and want. Clark liked that looked, and despite himself he found he was beginning to sweat. She gently reached over and ran a hand across his abs, pressing slightly. "I've missed you," she whispered, her tone more than just a little seductive.

Then she leaned forward to kiss him.

"I've missed you too," he mumbled into her lips. Her lips were so soft and warm, and he felt like he was falling, falling, falling.

Her hand slipped into his shirt and pulled up, a silent plea for him to take off his shirt. He tried to ignore it at first, just kissing harder, and at first it worked. Then she tried again a few minutes later. He tried to delay her again, but this time she pulled back, a look of confusion and slight good-natured annoyance on her face.

"I don't care if you've lost weight or something, Clark," she said seriously. "Just take your shirt off."

He swallowed heavily. "Are you sure?"

She laughed in disbelief. "Am I sure? Am I sure that I want to see you with your shirt off?" She snorted softly. "Yes, Clark, I'm sure."

He couldn't delay it any longer, he realized. And he really didn't want to miss out on this his first night back with her, anyway. Just swallow your pride, a voice in his head said. Easier said than done, he thought as he stripped the offending article of clothing off.

Once it was off, he immediately pushed himself down against the bed, hiding the sight of it. She seemed satisfied, and draped herself on top of him, their kissing continuing.

Clark hadn't thought that he'd feel anything like it again. For a moment the pain of betrayal and the ever-present thoughts of death seemed further away. This warm, beautiful body in his arms represented life, and surely death couldn't be at their door in the midst of this, could it?

His ethereal distortion of reality was shattered when she slipped a hand under his back, moving high towards his shoulder blade. She didn't even suspect, he realized, but he couldn't help himself from flinching away.

She rolled off his and sat up. "Alright, Clark, what's wrong?"

"I-nothing," he lied, pulling her back down for a kiss, but burying his shoulder deeper into the pillow.

As soon as he shifted his shoulder she gasped into his mouth and pulled away. "Let me see your shoulder, Clark," she said softly, her voice firm and her eyes bright and discerning. "Now."

She was as bad as Lex with her commanding looks, and Clark might as well have been butter. "Chloe-"

"Now." Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and her lips thinned.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Clark sat up and let her look. Her indrawn breath was very subtle, but Clark heard it. It cut through him like a knife.

"Oh, Clark-" she whispered, raising her hand to trace the mark.

"When I was in the camps," he muttered, feeling suddenly very ashamed.

She stopped touching it and came around to sit next to him. With all the tenderness she possessed she reached over and turned his head so that he was looking at her. "Why did you think you couldn't tell me?"

"I was ashamed, Chloe," he said seriously. "Lex told me that you never received it, and, well, you know what it's a mark of, don't you?"

"I couldn't care less," she said seriously. "It's only a mark of slavery if you're a slave, which you're clearly not. By the way, how did Lex get you out of that camp?"

"He didn't," Clark said truthfully. "He got me out of a marketplace."

Her pretty eyes widened slightly and she pursed her lips. She gave a slight nod to show that she understood, but, as good an actress as she was, she couldn't hide all of her shock. "He bought you."

"In a matter of legality, yes."

"Let's talk about it later," she suggested suddenly, staring up into his eyes. After another moment she leaned up for a kiss.

He'd never loved her more than at that moment. Talking later seemed like a very good idea.


	14. Chapter 14

Clark awoke with Chloe snuggled into his side, her hair tickling his chest. He grinned slightly and rolled into it, burying his face in the golden locks. They smelled like fruit—especially mangos—and he drank in the scent.

"Emmm," she muttered softly as Clark sniffed her hair. She giggled when she realized what he was doing.

"I love you, Chloe," he whispered "I've missed you." Then, almost as an afterthought he murmured, It's early; go back to sleep."

She'd never been really awake anyway, so when he covered her with the blanket and kissed her gently she drifted right back off. Clark, on the other hand, went over and picked up his sweat pants from the floor, as well as his white T-shirt. He took a quick trip to the bathroom to pee, brush his teeth, and comb his hair before he slipped out of the room in as quiet a fashion as possible.

Lex was right where he'd known he'd be, in the kitchen, getting an early start. Lex gave him something between a grin and a smirk as he came in. "Late night?"

"How'd you know?" he said only half-jokingly, part of him really curious.

Lex raised an eyebrow and set the paper he'd been reading down. "Honestly? Well, one, you've got that look in your eyes, and, two, you've got a hickey on your neck. I'd suggest wearing something with a high collar."

Lex was getting far too much sadistic pleasure out of his hearty blush, just judging from his smirk. "I really do?"

Lex nodded, one hundred percent serious. "Most definitely. There's a small mirror in the inner kitchen. Check if you don't believe me."

Clark made a quick dash in there to look, and saw Lex was most definitely not lying. Once he re-immerged, he was met with Lex having gone back to his paper and coffee. "Like I said, collared shirts," he suggested again, not taking his eyes off the paper.

"You're impossible," he said with a laugh and a slight shake of his head.

Lex set the paper down and took a sip of coffee. "She despises me, you know," he pointed out seriously. "Probably blames me for about half of the deaths of her loved ones."

"Lex, I'm sure she doesn't-"

"She does," he cut in, his hard blue eyes never leaving Clark's face. "I'm not a fool, Clark, and I know you're aware of just how well I can read people."

"Ok, so you're not her...favorite person," he conceded with a tiny half-shrug.

"And she doesn't trust me as far as she can throw."

"Aw, Lex, Chloe can throw pretty far! She-" he began to joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"_Clark_" Apparently Lex wasn't going to be deterred. His eyes were unblinking and set, his face a picture of seriousness.

Clark stopped talking and swallowed. "Yes?"

"Don't do something stupid like leaving just because she wants to. You've got to remember that you've got that mark and that you're not invincible."

Clark's eyes darkened a shade as well, and he felt the beginnings of irritation. "You're not my father, Lex," he said softly, immediately regretting it when Lex's face hardened more.

"No," Lex agreed. "I know when my race is run, and I'll take a different course if it means surviving."

The beginning feelings of irritation irrupted into full out anger. "Shut up."

Lex looked at him coolly, but yet with a glare that could only be described as calculating. "No."

"Why do you want me to stay here so bad, huh? Are you afraid I might actually do something to damage what you've worked for?"

Lex pushed his chair back and stood up to face Clark. "I believe we've been over this."

"Maybe I don't believe you," he spat angrily. He could feel a flush rising in his cheeks, and he knew he was probably being irrational, but the near-taunt about his father rang in his ears and seemed to drown out everything else, sense chief among those things.

"Lie to me, but don't lie to yourself, Clark," Lex advised, an eyebrow slightly raised. "The reason for that would be that I can tell when you're lying, but I'm not sure_ you_ can anymore. All I want is your word that you won't leave."

"I already gave it, although that might have been a mistake."

Lex nodded and visibly relaxed. Clark was confused at first by the emotion just barely creeping onto Lex's face, but after a little closer inspection he ascertained it to be relief. "If we've got that out of the way, then follow me," Lex directed.

Clark did, possibly out of habit, because it seemed that he'd been following Lex since the day they'd met in Smallville. In reality, they'd followed each other and both had influenced the other. "Where are we going?" he asked once they'd gotten out in the hall. When Lex didn't answer, but only smirked, he asked again, "Really, Lex, where are we going?"

A grim smile appeared on Lex's face. "The capitol building. You did know that my house was in Denver-you know, the capital city?"

Clark rolled his eyes but nodded. "We had tabs on all the leaders; of course I know where your house is."

"Good," replied Lex, his smile growing. "But anyway, you're going to double as my servant today."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Um, Ok, why?"

"Because otherwise you're not going to get into the building, and you certainly wouldn't get out."

Clark hadn't been watching where they were going, but Lex apparently had, because he stopped them outside a door and then beckoned Clark inside. "A bathroom," Clark noted dully when he saw the interior. "Why are we in a bathroom?"

"Because Clark Kent has already made an appearance. Haven't you ever done the incognito thing, Clark?"

"Too many times," he said seriously. "You don't even want to know what I dressed up as the time I snuck into a government records building."

Lex smirked, eyeing him with amusement. "I suspect that I don't. Sit on the toilet."

Clark did as he was told, while Lex rummaged around in the medicine cabinet for something. "What's at the capital building?" Clark asked as he waited. The capital building was known as the main meeting place of all things alien. Getting in there would be tough, and getting information would be even tougher.

"So many things and, yet, not enough," Lex mumbled. He sighed when he saw Clark's annoyed frown at his purposeful vagueness, and then audibly answered, "A trial."

"Whose trial?" he prompted, feeling like he basically had to pry the information out of Lex.

"Victoria Hardwick."

Clark laughed, though he really didn't think it was at all funny. "You're kidding."

"I'm not," Lex replied, finally withdrawing from the cabinet with a few various things in his hands. "She joined the alien's side from the start, but she's been playing the double agent, trying to gain a profit. Does that really surprise you?"

"Not at all," he admitted with a bitter laugh. "She was...always out for herself."

"Mmhm," Lex agreed, moving over to Clark. "Ever wanted to be a blond, Clark?" he asked with a grin as he held up some washable hair dye.

"I always thought brunette suited me just fine, but I think I'm game to try it."

Lex said nothing, but pulled the cap off and started spraying, combing through Clark's hair gingerly, clearly making it believable. Clark had never met anyone who was as good at disguising their true selves when they wanted as Lex, so he supposed that he at least wouldn't look like himself.

When Lex finished spraying, he laughed softly. "Yeah, I like you better as a brunette too. But I'd say the dye job looks good."

"It washes out, right?" Clark inquired. He really didn't want to spend a month or so as a blond. Chloe would have too much fun with that.

"Of course. I suspect that another search team will show up eventually, so you're going to need to be back to being a brunette by tonight at least, just in case." He handed Clark a small box and bottle. "Contacts," he explained at Clark's confused look. "Put them in."

Clark stood up and dripped some of the fluid into his eye before slipping the contacts in. He'd done that many times and was lucky that he knew how to. It was a little trickier, though, without your eyeballs being invulnerable, but he eventually got it.

When he looked in the mirror after, it was like it wasn't even him. Everything was so..._light_ in coloration. The dye job was nearly perfect, and no trace of his dark brown hair showed at all. That, coupled with the contacts which turned his eyes blue, left no trace of Clark Kent. Lex had even colored his eyebrows.

"I don't look like me at all."

"Indeed," Lex said with a small smile as he came to stand beside him. "Put these on," he ordered abruptly, handing Clark a stack of clothing. Clark glanced down at the clothes. Classic clothes of a servant. Yes, he was really playing the part. "I'll be waiting outside," Lex told him before disappearing out the door.

The clothing of the pants was brown and rough and it itched against Clark's skin as he put it on. The shirt was no better with its unfitted waist and sleeves that hung off him like a sack. It too was brown, and, along with his hair, it made his skin look oddly pale. Lex had left him some shoes, although they were just a pair of simple dark brown work boots. He was surprised at how battered looking they were, and he wondered where Lex had gotten them from, because they'd obviously been broken in.

"Good enough to pass?" Clark asked seriously as he exited the bathroom.

Lex gave him a thorough perusal, but nodded. "Good. I'd recognize you, of course, and I suspect that Chloe would as well. I don't think Lana would, though."

"Why's that?" he asked, his brow wrinkling. Lana, though he didn't like her now, was smart enough, and he hadn't thought Lex to be one who would underestimate his opponent.

"Because she isn't attentive to detail. You see, most people look at the eyes, build, and hair to identify people. Do you notice how many people mistake others for someone else when they see them from behind? Lana would be one of those people. The shape of your face gives you away, but that's it. The clothes hide the shape of your body nicely. Therefore, unless someone is very observant, they'll be hard-pressed to recognize you."

"How do you know stuff like that?" he asked incredulously. Did Lex seriously watch people that much to know how they recognized others?

"Chloe does too. She can tell if someone's lying. You know, Clark, it's ironic; you were one of the people with the most secrets that I'd ever met, and, yet, you surrounded yourself with people who were known for reading others like most people read the Sunday paper."

Clark only shrugged and followed Lex towards the exit of the mansion. Choosing friends like that had obviously served him well in the long run.


	15. Chapter 15

"You know how to roll with blows, right, Clark?" Lex asked as they were getting out of the car.

He gave Lex a confused look. "Um, sufficiently, I guess."

Lex nodded curtly. "Learn to perfect that."

"Why?" Lex was just plain crazy sometimes. Was he planning on staging a fight?

"Because people don't treat servants well. Also, if I hit you, don't you dare turn back around and deck me. I really don't want to have to think of an excuse for why I don't want you killed on the spot, alright?"

He seriously had to be kidding, or at least Clark hoped he was. Apparently, though, he was not, just judging by the way Lex was staring at him. Whatever traces of a smile had been on his face quickly faded. "Right." He'd survived for years on the streets and underground, so why did it feel like he was such a novice now?

"Carry this," Lex said rather rudely, and Clark figured they'd gone into role-playing form.

The front gate loomed in front of them, and Clark had to work to make himself not tense up, although maybe a servant—which was really Lex's nice way of saying slave—should be afraid of it. The gate surrounded the whole place, and there was more security than Clark had ever seen. Aliens were everywhere.

"Mr. Luthor," the alien at the entrance greeted Lex. "May I see your card?"

Lex reached into his pocket and fished out an ID, handing it to the alien. Clark didn't get to see it, but he had the feeling that if it got Lex into the capitol it would get him in anywhere. "Clear," the alien announced as he scanned it though a machine at the gate. "You're free to go inside."

Lex's gate and posture were that of someone who was influential, knew he was influential, and intended to use that influence. Clark did his best to follow behind looking pathetic. He was pretty sure that servants weren't supposed to look like the person they were with was their best friend.

The capital building was magnificent, and Lex seemed to know his way around. Clark couldn't believe how many aliens there were there, and if he'd ever been able to sneak in, this would have been the perfect place—the absolute perfect place—to really upset (maybe even destroy) their system.

And Lex had unlimited access to all of it.

What the heck was Lex thinking? Why hadn't he destroyed the place yet?

Lex continued through the building until they both reached a large ornately carved door with some symbols on it. Clark had to look carefully at them, but after a quick perusal he was able to see that they said something along the lines of, "Justice to all who deserve it, though some deserve it more than others."

Two aliens were posted outside the door, but they simply nodded at Lex. Clark fell a little behind and was shocked when Lex suddenly grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward. "Will you hurry up, damn it!" he spat, shooting Clark a terribly condescending look.

Clark let himself be jerked forward. He found he more felt like hitting the aliens when they snickered at this rough treatment than he felt like hitting Lex. Non-the-less, he hurried along into the court room.

The court room was possibly the most ominous thing he'd ever seen. There were no seats for the jury, but only one tall seat, rising up at the front of the room and towering over everything else. There was a single seat in front of the table and on its arms were two wrists restraints. In fact, it had all the restraints that the chairs used for branding had possessed. All of these restraints were completely unnecessary since the aliens all had super-speed and no human could outrun them, but it was simply the principle as well as the tone it set for the whole thing. Clark shivered when he saw it, for he remembered receiving his mark.

Behind the single chair there were seats, and Lex led him over to the front room. An alien nodded to him and he sat down, motioning for Clark to sit beside him. Clark sat and began to watch.

Watching was one of Clark's strengths. He gained some of his power from observing— from knowing—what was going on. It wasn't a skill he'd really had when he'd been younger, but as he'd grown it had developed and he'd cultivated it. In those nearly-five years it had been what had often saved him and allowed him to prevail.

There was no jury, and there wouldn't be one either. You were guilty from the moment the rachla decided you were. And while the rachla seldom took the time to actually take an active part in a case, if he did and he were against you then you were as good as dead. The judge was always an alien, no matter who was being tried, and he would do whatever the rachla wanted. Clark didn't know if Victoria was in that situation or not.

Even if the rachla didn't take an interest in your case you still got no jury. A judge would hear you out, and he'd most certainly be swayed by the opinions of the other aliens in the room. If you were popular with the people it was likely you'd get off. If you weren't it was likely that you wouldn't.

And apparently court had just come into session, because an alien who appeared to be the judge strode up the steps to the seat overlooking the room and sat down. The next moment the doors to the room banged open and a frightened pleading could be heard.

"Please, I've done nothing! Please!"

Clark felt Lex shift beside him as he turned to look at the doors. He immediately turned back, and at first Clark was at a loss as to why. As Victoria came into view he knew immediately.

She looked horrid. There were dark bags around her eyes, her hair was messy and her once-shapely body was thin and gaunt. Her eyes had a haunted look, and Clark could only wonder at what she'd gone through, for if he didn't have that look after what had happened to him, what could have possibly made her look like that?

"Please," she begged again and Clark could only watch as a guard smashed his hand into her mouth, silencing her. She stumbled and they continued to pull her forward, tearing at the knees of her prison uniform that was already really only a glorified rag. The blow had the desired effect, however, as she fell silent while blood dribbled down her mouth.

Clark closed his eyes briefly. He didn't think that even Lex probably wished this on her. Clark knew he didn't. That feeling doubled when he saw her forced into that chair.

"Victoria Hardwick," the alien posing as judge called out. He had no gavel, but he didn't need one. As soon as he spoke everyone in the hall turned towards him, including Victoria. The tone of his voice was enough of a call to order. "You are charged with selling information to the renegade party known to our kind as rebels. Furthermore, you are charged with the misdemeanor of arranging the murder of one of our government officials in order to further aid the rebels. Such crimes are punishable by-"

"I'm innocent!" she shrieked, tears coming to her eyes. "Please, Sir!" Clark had to appreciate that lovely British accent of hers, even given the present circumstances.

"I did not call for you to speak!" he roared, easily drowning her out. "Be silent or there will be no trial."

Victoria fell back in her chair, the tears spilling over. She'd be found guilty. Clark knew it, Lex knew it, Victoria knew it, the _whole courthouse_ knew it. The trail was little more than a Kangaroo court, meant so that the aliens could say they were bringers of justice. No one would say anything against that, although they all knew better, if only simply because they didn't want charges to be brought against them.

The judge went on. "Crimes such as the ones just listed are punishable with death."

Her face paled, although Clark thought she must have known it was coming. "How do you plead?" the judge asked apathetically.

"I'm innocent, Sir. I was framed!"

The alien looked at her coolly, his mask of apathy never faltering, much less changing. "By whom?" he asked disinterestedly.

"A woman newly introduced to society! I swear by it."

"Only names," he told her.

"Lana Lang! She framed me to gain her place in society. I-I gave her some information, yes, but it was not on how to bring down our society. It was to help us! I swear it! She had been doubling as a comrade to three other rebels for years, and she wished to know how to make her way into society—who to talk to in order to inform on them! She needed a lab to finish some type of serum. I don't know what it was! Please!"

Clark felt his breath suddenly stop coming. A serum? It could only be the one that he'd taken to remove his powers.

"She lies," the judge said simply. "Lana Lang did indeed turn in three other rebels recently, but she's turned in others before. She has been a double from perhaps the second year of the war."

Vertigo washed over Clark and he had to work to keep his head up. Only determination, desperate strength, and drive allowed him to do so. The second year of the war...

"Victoria Hardwick, you have been found guilty of high treason against the republic you so fervently claimed to support. I am sentencing you with capital punishment in the form of an injection to take place immediately."

"No!" she shrieked. "It's Lana Lang! She doesn't want anyone to know the things she did against this regime! She had a part in Chicago! I swear it! I swear it!" she screamed, becoming hysterical.

The judge rose from his seat, regarding her with something that looked very much like disgust. "Brand her first," he said as he started down the stairs.

Clark froze in his seat. There apparently was a reason that the chair had all the same restraints as the one he'd been marked in. "NO!" she shrieked, finally going over the top and becoming completely hysterical. "No, please, no," she whimpered as a man walked into the court room, a glowing iron in his hands.

Clark didn't want to know where he'd gotten the iron in the central building for all alien activity. After all, what kind of government kept means with which to torture people right in their place of work? It didn't matter where it had come from, though, because he had it, and he was advancing on Victoria with it.

"NO!" she screamed again as the dirty cloth was torn off her shoulder. Clark found himself shaking as they shoved the iron to her skin. He desperately tried to control the mad shaking of his hands by shoving them under his legs, but he could feel himself beginning to sweat as well.

Her screams became primal and Clark wondered if that was how he'd looked. Her face was alight with pain and desperate shame, and her cries seemed to be unending. He'd heard others scream like that when he'd had it done, but had he? He hoped not, because that look, oh, that look was frightening in a way Clark didn't want to examine—Just like he didn't want to examine the brand on his own left shoulder.

About a minute later it was done, and she was left panting and sobbing. Clark was left shaking, feeling terribly sick at the smell of burned flesh. He'd never wanted to smell that again—had never wanted to smell it in the first place. Only great self-control stopped him from vomiting.

After she'd received the mark another man came forward, this time holding a small needled and syringe. Victoria began to sob at the sight of it, but she seemed oddly resigned. She'd lost hope, Clark realized, and it really wasn't a hard thing to do.

She didn't struggle at all as the man slid the needle into the skin of her neck, right at her jugular vein. Her head had already lolled to the side anyway. She'd completely given up. She barely even flinched as the medicine was shot into her vein.

Victoria Hardwick slipped out of life without so much as even a noise.

It didn't seem fitting, especially because Clark knew she wasn't guilty, at least not of the crime by which she'd been tried and condemned. Lana had framed her, because she'd used her as part of her plan to rise up—a plan that was only then becoming clear—and everyone who had been a part of her life that could possibly do harm to her had to die. That was why she'd attempted to kill him, Clark realized.

Clark could hear the scraps of chairs all around him as well as people rising to their feet. There was a sharp jerk on his arm, but Lex spoke no harsh words to him. Perhaps he understood that Clark was far too liable to shatter at that point in time. But whatever the reason, he was led in the stream of people leaving the room and out the door as gently as was possible without blowing their cover. Clark was thankful, because he wasn't sure he'd have been able to handle it otherwise.

As they walked out the door he took one last look at Victoria's body. She'd been caught in the crossfire of terrible plan that had nothing to do with her, Clark realized. She'd paid with her life.

The smell of burned flesh still touched his nostrils as he walked out, a reminder of the price he'd paid for Lana's betrayal as well. Victoria wasn't alone in that.

--------------------------------

"I didn't know they'd brand her," Lex said softly once they were back in the car.

"But you knew she'd be dead."

"So did you as soon as you walked in the room. You could feel the mood of the room as well as I could."

Clark nodded, leaning back in the seat. "Yes."

"I knew the trial was related to Lana."

"Lana framed her. She was innocent of those crimes." Clark felt as though he were going into shock. His head seemed to be stuck straight ahead staring out the window, or rather staring anywhere but at Lex, while his mind was thinking of anything other than what was on his back. His demons were...so much bigger and more persistent than most.

"She was guilty of others."

"But not of the ones she was killed for. Lana framed her."

"You knew that from the moment her name came into it. You needed to have that information. I needed to have that information. That's why I had us both go, but I didn't know she'd be branded."

"I-shit," he swore, placing his face in his hands. "I could smell it. It made me gag. You don't know what it was like, Lex, to have it done. I wonder if I sounded like she did. I wonder what I looked like. I don't want to know, damn, I don't." He fell silent as he realized he was rambling.

"You held it together surprisingly well."

"I always do," he replied softly, going back to looking out the window.

"You know that Lana's trying to kill off anyone who could possibly know anything about her sudden rise to power."

Clark took a deep breath, composing himself. "Yes, but I think there's got to be something else. I don't think she could have risen to power just like that. I mean, wouldn't they have arrested her when she showed up to inform on us?"

Lex nodded slightly. "Have you ever heard the expression 'All's fair in love and war'?"

"You think she's sleeping with someone at the top?" he asked, the possibility making him sick. Had Lana been planning this for years? Who was he kidding? He'd heard the judge say she'd been informing since the second year of the war. Of course she had been planning it for years.

"I think she has been since fairly near the beginning. In this day and age you do what you've got to. But the strange thing is I think that she may have tried to protect you for some time."

Clark's brow wrinkled. He'd like to believe that, but he'd never been one to deceive himself. It never came to any good, and he knew that. "Why do you think that?"

"Because by all rights, and with the way this story's coming together, you should have been dead early on."

"We're missing something here," he said knowingly. "Something big."

"I suspect she's done of good job of hiding whatever that thing is," Lex guessed. And Lex's guesses were always pretty straight on.

They both fell silent after that. Clark suspected that they were both contemplating what exactly Lana had been doing and what they were missing. Clark was still just trying to keep the bile in his throat down. That smell...


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry about the missing update yesterday! I was at a family gathering and, well, if you knew my family than you'd know how interesting that can be. 

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The dye came out easily enough, as did the contacts. It was so amazing to see the transformation back into Clark Kent. For Clark it was like stripping away a whole identity and letting his true self come through.

When he took off his shirt he couldn't help himself from looking. The mark was clear on his left shoulder, just as he'd known it would be. Looking at its lines and curves in the mirror made him shiver, almost as though he were trying to shake it off.

"Hard to look at, isn't it?" Lex asked, coming into the bathroom uninvited. Only Lex could come in unannounced and still look so supremely confident.

"You've got no idea," Clark said softly, feeling uneasy under the scrutiny his shoulder was receiving.

"Did it hurt?" Lex asked suddenly. Questions like that weren't very common for Lex, and so Clark blinked a few times in confusion.

"Yes," he answered truthfully. "I threw up after actually. But, honestly, I think it was what led up to it that broke me."

"I didn't ask before because I didn't think you were ready to talk about," Lex explained. "Not because I didn't care. You know that, right?"

Clark laughed shakily. "C'mon, Lex, you risked public image to make sure I didn't die on the side of the road. Nothing says you care like that."

Lex returned his weak smile. "What happened before that was so terrible?"

"You know," he replied. Lex did too. Everyone knew. He'd heard rumors and he'd remained underground. Lex had probably even seen it happen. He'd certainly seen the branding part happen.

"I know that you were probably tossed in a truck and treated like some sort of animal. They burn the trucks with the sick and the dead. I know they've got barracks that the prisoners stay in before they're stigmatized, and I suspect that's where you got lice. I also know that after you received the mark you probably got tossed into an outdoor enclosure until you were transported sometime shortly after that."

Clark sank back into the seat. Could words used to describe his experience really sound that bland? He felt like there should have been some kind of flashing lights or background music, at the very least. Surely it couldn't sound so...simple, although he suspected Lex was only making it sound that way so that it would be easier for him. Sometimes emotion of others coupled with your own could be a devastating combination.

"That's very nearly completely correct," he whispered. "But-" Lex hadn't mentioned the smell, the look of the other people, the_ fear_ in their eyes. He didn't know what it was like to watch those trucks burn, knowing that you could have very easily been one of those people. Lex hadn't seen the leers of the aliens, hadn't heard their threats. Words couldn't describe a place like that.

Lex couldn't even begin to fathom what it was like to feel that iron on your skin, to be within the confines of the chair. And after, when Clark had forced himself to submit to the alien—Lex didn't know what that kind of submission was like either. He'd never had to kneel on the ground with his neck exposed, trying to placate an evil conqueror.

"Clark?"

"Yes?" he asked miserably, splashing some water on his face.

"Have you ever heard of security tapes?"

Clark froze at Lex's words, but forced himself to remain calm. "Yes."

"Did you know there were some at the compound where you were?"

He hadn't. He didn't want to admit that perhaps Lex had watched his sufferings either. If Lex had watched him receive that brand...His stomach rolled violently. "No," he whispered.

"There were."

"Did you watch them?" His knees felt so terribly weak. That kind of suffering...should never be revisited.

"Would it upset you if I had?"

Clark tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling, desperately willing himself not to vomit. Lex's question for his question had already given him an answer, but he wanted it confirmed. "You know the answer to that. Just tell me if you watched them."

Lex sighed heavily, and Clark squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes," he heard Lex whisper.

"How long ago?" There was no way he was going to be able to stave off the nausea for long. Now it was only a matter of how much information he could get out of Lex before it overtook him.

"When I first brought you here. You were still unconscious in bed."

"Why?"

"Because you were a mess."

Lex sounded, if Clark wasn't mistaken, almost a little broken. Perhaps nothing directly inflicted upon Lex himself could do that, but maybe if his friends were torn down...

"I'm still a mess, Lex," he found himself admitting, although he didn't remember thinking about the words before saying them. "I just keep it together and keep pushing through, because somehow, for some stupid reason, I'm not willing to admit that I might have lost. And I'd rather die than give up." He paused for a moment, not thinking—not allowing himself to think—about what he'd just said. "And don't give me a speech, because I know you're the same damn way."

He finally lost his battle with his stomach, and he quickly fell to his knees before the toilet, giving up what little he had in it. When he was done he fell back against the wall, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Lex approach.

"You're there for everyone, Clark," he said seriously, kneeling down next to him and bringing a wash cloth up to his face to wipe away the remnants of the vomit. "You were the one who held Pete, Lana, and Chloe together for nearly five years. I suspect that part of the reason Lana went so long without betraying everyone is because of you. You took care of Lois, and I know you blamed yourself for her death. You took care of all of Smallville, you tried to take care of the world once this war started. Hell, you even took care of me. You think you're responsible for the whole human race, and it has to stop, Clark."

There was another swipe of the washcloth across his face, and he leaned into it. Lex's words might have sounded harsh to anyone but Clark. But to Clark he knew them to be anything _but_ harsh. "You can't do it all, although you certainly try. The last time you willingly let anyone take care of _you_ was when both of your parents were still alive."

Clark knew his mom was dead, but only part of him wanted to talk about it. Lex was on a role anyway, so he doubted that he'd have been able to get the words out. "You still take care of Chloe. And you know what, Clark? You took care of me for years in Smallville. You gave me a reason to keep going and to not become my father. You're debt to me has been paid—not that you ever had one, though I know you thought you did. So you take care of Chloe, but you let me take care of you."

Lex was not asking him a question, he realized, but was rather telling him. Lex always got what he wanted, and Clark knew that. He didn't think this time would be any different.

"You're so unbelievably stubborn."

"Like you're not the same exact way," Clark hissed back, but not stopping Lex from pulling him to his feet.

"You're going to take a long, long nap. And I'll be damned if anyone—even Chloe—disturbs you. In fact, I'll have a nice long talk with her while you sleep."

"I'm fine, Lex," he protested, pushing back against the wall and trying to stand. He wasn't fine, and he knew he wasn't fine. Deep in his mind he was even aware that he sort of hoped that maybe Lex would keep pushing, even as his other half balked at that thought.

"You look like shit. You have ever since that trail. You're taking a nap, and we'll figure things out when you wake up. Drink this."

Clark took the glass Lex was holding out to him and drank deeply. He was tired. Probably more mentally than physically, but he was still really dragging. "Fine." he finally conceded. He didn't need to open his eyes to see Lex's smile.

"Get up, then, and I'll help you back to your room."

Clark did so and followed Lex out of the bathroom. The sight of the brand being seared into Victoria's flesh still haunted him.

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A warm armful of body and a face full of hair hit him as soon as he and Lex walked into Clark's room. "Chloe," he murmured softly. "Hey."

"Where have you been, and—Clark, what's wrong?" All her righteous anger apparently seemed to bleed out of her at the sight of Clark. "My gosh, what's wrong?" she repeated, her hands coming up to cup his face lightly.

"He's going to take a nap now, and we're going to talk," Lex said from behind him. "Now."

Chloe gave Clark a thorough once over and then nodded. Clark smiled softly. She may not have liked or trusted Lex, but apparently she was willing to join forces with him on this matter. "Lex is right. Get in bed," she said shortly.

Clark figured if the two of them were against him then he was out of a fighting chance. He allowed himself to be led to bed by Chloe and pushed down against the pillows. He was also aware when she started stripping his clothes off—nothing sexual and just down to his boxers—before slipping his pair of sweat pants back on him.

"Get some sleep, Clark," she said gently. A moment later he heard her and Lex's footsteps leave the room. Sleep came soon after that.

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"What the hell were you thinking taking him to that trial?"

Voices filtered into Clark's hearing. A pleasant warmth had crept into his very bones, and he felt incredibly relaxed. Well, not his mind anymore, because he'd heard Chloe, and she sounded upset, but his body still remained in a state of relaxation.

"What should I have done, Chloe?"

Lex's voice sounded just as angry as hers, only in a much more controlled way. That didn't surprise Clark; Lex was subtle anger, and Chloe was always right out there in her emotions.

"You knew—if you truly saw those tapes—you knew what that would do to him."

"Chloe, you can't relate to what happened to him in that camp anymore than I can. You didn't receive that mark."

"So what!" she hissed. "That automatically means that you know what's best for him and I don't? I've lived with him for nearly five years! I know that man lying in that bed. I sleep with that man! How much more damn intimate can you get!"

"You think because you slept with him that you know him?" Lex asked with a laugh. It sounded harsh and bitter even to Clark's ears. And, crap, why couldn't he move, or at least speak?

"Are you insinuating that I don't?" she countered him.

"Not at all," he replied smoothly. "I'm just simply purposing that your dislike of me clouds your judgment. That's a mistake I'd expect of Clark, but not of you."

"Clark's never been good at judging people. His heart gets in the way."

Clark couldn't see their faces, but he assumed that some sort of facial expression must have been displayed there, because Lex's voice became low. Clark knew that to be a sure warning sign. "Are you saying that he shouldn't trust me?"

"No, I think he _can_ trust you, I just think he's foolish to do so in such a complete way."

"Perhaps I've earned that trust?"

"Oh, I don't doubt it," she said, her voice sincere. "You've earned my trust, but I don't have to like you."

"Fair enough," Clark heard Lex say. "But the other matter I wanted to discuss with you pertains more towards...Clark."

"Which is precisely why you drugged him, right?" Chloe asked with a half-laugh. To Clark it sounded as though she were more than a little bit amused.

"How did you know I drugged him?" Lex didn't sound like he was at all surprised that Chloe knew, nor did he sound like he was denying her accusation at all.

"Oh, please, Lex. We're making enough noise to raise the dead with our shouting. If he heard either of us shouting he'd be up and awake in a minute."

Lex didn't reply to that, but Clark could easily in vision his amused smile. Lex would find such a statement funny.

"But anyway," she continued. "What did you want to talk about?"

"He's got that brand."

There was silence for a moment. Clark felt as though he should have been able to at least flinch at this discussion. "Yes," Chloe said softly.

"So he's in danger. He's got the highest security level brand. If he's found outside this mansion with it he could be killed."

"What are you getting at?" she hissed.

"You don't lure him outside this mansion, got it?" Lex's voice sounded cold and firm, and Clark had forgotten to what lengths Lex would sometimes go to control lives—even his. He'd never liked it then, and he didn't like it now. Even if it were for his own good it still angered him.

"You unbelievable bastard!" she exclaimed with an incredulous laugh. "You know he hates being manipulated."

"Clark can hate me if he so chooses, but I'll lock him in that room before I let him again go through what he's been forced to endure already."

"Clark's going to resent that."

"I don't care," Lex said simply. "Chloe, I see things from him that you never will. He loves you and wants to be strong for you."

"He's cried before," she said defensively.

"I don't doubt it, but you've got to look at his face. With you his emotions aren't going to right out there, completely readable. Even when he's sobbing his heart out in front of you he's still—and I don't think he even knows he's doing this—he's still keeping some of it hidden. It's not because he loves you any less. In fact, it shows how much he does love you."

Clark heard her sigh and the sound of feet told Clark that they were entering his room. The drug seemed to be wearing off even more, as he was regaining his mobility quickly, though, he hadn't really tried it out yet in fear of being known to be awake.

"Are we clear, Chloe?" he heard Lex ask, his voice like steel.

There was a moments pause before Chloe finally answered, "Yes. It might be for the best."

"Clark," he heard her whisper a moment later, her hand running through his hair.

He didn't have to pretend to be groggy as he opened his eyes. No, the drugs insured that there was absolutely no playing about it. He cracked his eyes open a little and looked up at Lex and Chloe. "Hey..." he muttered.

As soon as he was coherent enough to move he reached for his shirt. He hated having that mark exposed longer or more than was necessary. Both Chloe's and Lex's eyes darkened a little as he did so, and he knew it to be in worry.

"Anything happen while I was asleep?" he asked curiously.

"Chloe and I had a nice chat," Lex said with a nonchalant shrug.

Clark had understood right from the moment that he'd heard the conversation start that Lex wasn't going to tell him anything that he didn't have to, but it still made him mad. "Oh, alright," he replied. Two could play that game.

"You were awake the whole time," Lex noted with a smirk.

"I-" Clark started to deny.

"Was most definitely awake the whole time," Chloe finished.

Clark swallowed. "Um."

"I'll leave you two alone," Lex said, heading for the door. He shot Chloe a small smile as he did so, only to be returned with a glare.

Once he was gone, Chloe asked, "How long were you awake for?"

Clark shrugged. "About two minutes before you came into the room."

"So you heard a lot then."

"Um...yeah."

Chloe sighed and sat down on the bed, her hands in her lap. "He's only trying to do what's best for you, Clark. I think he feels responsible for what happened to you these last five years."

Clark leaned back into his pillows and smiled softly. "Lex is so ruthless to his competitors that he overcompensates for his friends. He takes things as personally as I do."

She gave him a lopsided smile but nodded. "I think you're probably right. Anyway, while you two were out this morning playing Hardy boys I did some snooping around Lex's office."

"Chloe, you shouldn't be in Lex's office," he rebuked her softly, his voice chiding. He wasn't really mad, though. He'd expect nothing less from Chloe.

She rolled her eyes. "Because you haven't been?" she shot back.

"Not without him there. Look, Chlo, I know that you don't like him, but I trust him."

"Actually, Clark," she said seriously. "I trust him too. I dislike him, but I trust him."

Clark shook his head, almost amused at Chloe. "Anyway, what did you find?"

"Nothing that he probably wouldn't have shown you," she said with a shrug. "Plans from the aliens to eliminate more prisoners, times of some meetings—not a lot actually. But I don't think Lex is the type of guy to leave his important documents lying around."

"And neither are you, Chlo. You guys are alike in more ways than you know."

"I'm not sure I take that as a compliment," she replied, arching her eyebrow slightly. "He's not exactly the nicest person."

"Believe it or not, Chloe, he's a little more benevolent than you think."

"To you, Clark, to you. Look, all I'm trying to say is to be careful. Lex is capable of a lot."

Clark swallowed his retort and nodded. "So did you find out anything today?"

She sighed and lay down on the bed beside him, putting her head on his chest. "Yeah. Lana's pushing for a campaign to get all political enemies, as inanyone with your brand—be they prisoner, slave, whatever—killed."

Clark wrapped an arm around her waist and sighed. "Ah, so she's trying to kill me. I wouldn't worry about it."

"And why not?" she mumbled against his chest, sounding rather put off.

"Because I can take care of myself. Besides, Lex has more clout than she does when it comes to political movements like that."

She pulled up off his chest to look him in the eye. "See, that's the thing, Clark. He doesn't. I think she's probably sleeping with someone at the top."

"Yeah, Lex and I kind of already figured that one."

"Well, I think you figured right. But that's not the point. The point is that you have that brand, and if that law is passed-."

"They won't find me," he said confidently.

"No, but you'll be in even more danger than you are now. At this point if you're caught in public you'd just be unceremoniously dragged back to Lex, because the records say that he bought you. Right now that's your safety net. But if this bill gets passed you'd be killed upon discovery and Lex would be in a whole lot of trouble as well, just because he harbored you."

"The bill hasn't passed yet," he said, still trying to exude confidence, despite the fact that his was failing rapidly.

"But it could, Clark."

"What do you want me to do, Chloe?" he asked, his voice tired. He gently raised his other arm and wrapped it around her, bringing his hand up to her neck and carefully massaging out the kinks.

"I really don't know, but we need to think of something."

"You're right," he muttered. "Do you want to talk to Lana?"

She shook her head. "I don't have a mark, Clark. A little hair dye and some contact lenses and I could pose as a debutante, having just made her way up to the high society. I could practice espionage at the top. If Lana sees me then that won't work."

Clark laughed. "You're certainly pretty enough."

She returned his laugh with a good natured one of her own. "Don't flatter me, Clark," she chided teasingly as she kissed his chest. He squirmed a little, her hair tickling him.

"I'm not flattering," he said truthfully. "You're gorgeous."

She stretched up to kiss him. "You looking for some, Kent?" she teased.

He shrugged and mumbled, "Might be," before he leaned down to meet her lips.

He'd go talk to Lex later. At that moment there were more...pressing matters.


	17. Chapter 17

"You forget to tell me about something, Lex? Maybe a new bill that Lana's trying to get passed?" Clark asked, strolling into Lex's office.

Lex looked up from the papers he'd been reading at his desk, studying Clark as if trying to determine whether he was upset or not. "I didn't forget to tell you; I found out earlier and was going to tell you when you woke up and got done with Chloe."

"Well, I'm waiting. Go on and tell me then," he said expectantly, coming to settle on the corner of Lex's desk.

"I think Chloe probably told you."

"All she said was that she was trying to get everyone at my level of criminal status killed." He wasn't sure it was the most subtle move by Lana, but still, it would certainly be effective.

"That's about it, actually," Lex said casually, confirming his statement.

"Can you counter it?"

"I'm trying, but right now my main prerogative is to find out how she's gaining so much power so quickly."

"You already know how," Clark said, finding Lex was dancing around his questions. He definitely disliked it.

"But I don't know with whom."

Clark nodded. "Fair point."

Lex sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching Clark carefully. "She's really got it in for you."

Clark laughed, and it sounded bitter even to his own ears. "She would. I mean, I'm one of the few people left who could inform on exactly what she's done over the years."

"No one would listen to you, though, and I'd think she'd be smart enough to know that."

"There's always the chance, and where there's a chance there's a danger of failure."

He'd known Lana longer and better than Lex, and he knew that was what she was thinking. She'd always been thorough, even in the resistance, and he suspected that this time would be no different. Lana didn't want to leave anything—_anything_—to chance.

Lex tossed him a file. "Look at it," he commanded, his eyes never leaving Clark's.

Clark cracked the file and opened it. "Where did you get these?" he asked, his throat closing as soon as he saw them, making if very difficult for the words to come out at all.

"I just got it off a security camera while you were napping."

Clark looked back down at the photos in his hand. In them was Lana, her clothing still very much showing that she was with the resistance, but she was talking to a young alien. She was also holding out a stack of photos to him, and they were tipped just enough so that Clark could see what it was. He flipped to the next piece in the file and was unsurprised to see it was a copy of the documents that he supposed Lana had been giving to the alien.

The top one was on Chloe. It was an overall summery of her, down to even her sleeping habits. He turned to the next one. That was off Pete. The last one was of him. Clark closed his eyes and forced himself to breath. It had been such a deliberate betrayal. If he'd ever wanted to extract revenge, it was at that moment in time.

He looked back down at the documents and flipped to the next one. That one and the next few gave details of the others who had been hiding out with them. "She planned this, and right under my nose too."

"It's hard to catch what you don't expect. I've got one more to show you, but I'm hesitant to."

Clark tossed the first file back on the desk. "Why?"

"Because apparently they wanted proof that you were sold off. Same with Chloe and Pete."

There was no decision to make. If he wanted to win then he had to be informed. "Let me see it."

Lex handed him the second folder, but all of his body posture seemed to be telling Clark he wished he didn't have to. Clark was first this time. There were pictures of when he'd been captured, of him holding Chloe. The blood flowing from his wounds was terrible. No wonder he'd had internal injuries.

There were pictures of him off a security camera as he received his brand. Yeah, he'd looked about as terrified as Victoria. The last set of pictures on him was of him in the slave market. There were some of Lex in there as well, especially of when he'd just found Clark. Clark flinched when he saw the ones where Lex had just found him and had been gently stroking his hair and inspecting his brand.

He hadn't thought it could get any worse, at least not until he turned to the next photo. Any lingering doubts he might have had that Pete was dead vanished in that instant. There were photos of his terribly bloody corpse, and had Lana enjoyed that? Had she looked at these photos and laughed?

Chloe was in there as well, and like himself he thought that, judging by those pictures, she should have been dead. She was, if it were possible, more of a mess than him. There was blood everywhere on her, and her hair was clotted with it. What a terrible, deadly mess.

"So that's how you knew what happened to me," he whispered, finally getting to the end and setting the folders down. "The rest you just filled in from rumors," he assumed.

Lex was watching him carefully, like he expected him to loose it at any moment. "Basically."

"Where did you get those?"

"You were an important prisoner, Clark. A very important one, in fact. Under normal circumstances you'd have had a trial much bigger than Victoria, but in this case they thought that it might do more harm then good. They were afraid that it would rally the rebel troops. So, instead, they just tossed you in the slave market but made sure you were as good as dead. A one night stand is an effective means of execution."

Clark swallowed heavily. "So they followed me to make sure I died?"

"Oh, yeah," Lex said with a bitter laugh, standing up and pouring himself some scotch.

"And when they found out that I didn't?"

"They were more than happy with Lana's excuse to come into this mansion and make sure that you weren't a guest of some kind."

"Were they satisfied with what they found?"

"No," Lex replied bluntly, taking a sip. Clark remembered a slight bit hysterically that he'd only become old enough to drink that year. He didn't feel anywhere near that young. His parents should have still been here, should have still been helping him through this. He shouldn't have had to lead all the people that he had.

"They still suspect," Clark admitted candidly.

"And I'm sure Lana's testimony is doing wonders," Lex replied quietly. "It's only a matter of time before they try to have you killed."

Clark sighed. "I'm hoping that I can avoid that."

"Naturally," Lex agreed, tipping his glass slightly. "Until then we keep up the facade. I've got a tip off that they'll be back tonight."

Clark sank down against the desk. "Please tell me you're not sleeping with people in the government as well."

Lex studied him for a moment, but didn't say anything.

"Oh, my gosh, you are," he realized after a moment. "Who?"

Lex smirked a little. "People are the most honest when they're having sex. Haven't you ever heard that?"

"So naturally you've slept your way through half of the daughters of the leaders of the council."

"Saved your life a few times."

"What!"

"C'mon, Clark. Do you think I showed up at that market by chance?"

Clark swallowed. "You knew?"

"I was only surprised to find you in such bad shape. After all, I was already on my way when you got beaten up getting off the truck."

"And the daughter of an alien told you this?"

Lex nodded, seeming very nonchalant about it. "Yes."

"During sex."

"Yes."

"You're unbelievable," Clark exclaimed with a sigh, not sure whether that was a compliment or not. Did everything have to be a dirty deal?

"Haven't you ever done anything to get something, Clark?"

"I've made out with a few girls, but I never went that far. I've done the incognito thing more times than I want to admit, and in some costumes I _defintely_ don't want to admit, but I kept things pretty clean."

"You always were straightforward in your warfare. You never played the element of the mind. But, anyway, tell Chloe what's happening tonight and-"

"Tell me what, Lex?" she asked coolly as she strode into the room.

"There's going to be another raid," Clark said clearly, trying to keep his voice even.

"Another one?" she asked interestedly. "There's been one before?"

"Yes," Lex replied. "You're going to get out of the house tonight, since you technically just _disappeared_ from your compound. Clark, however, is going to play a part again."

"Wait, you've got no record of Chloe as far as the exchange of money?" Clark asked, suddenly very, very interested.

"It was easier to steal a prisoner who had been left to die than one who was being sold," Lex said with a shrug. "There's no record of her at all."

"But there's one of me," Clark noted, letting his head drop as he shook it slowly. "How did I get so lucky?"

"I believe it happened when I told you five years ago that, 'no, Clark, you can't win this war. So, no, you shouldn't have run off and pretty much led the resistance while completely ignoring my advice.'"

"I joined the resistance too, you know," Chloe piped up. "Clark wasn't the only one who made those decisions."

Lex studied her carefully for a moment, almost as if he were seeing what she was really thinking. "But Clark was the one with the abilities."

Clark laughed bitterly. "Not anymore."

"I told someone once that one of the most prominent things I'd learned over the years was that anything lost can be found again. It's entirely possible we might be able to get them back."

Clark noted that Chloe looked mildly impressed at that prospect. He sighed and asked, "But, anyway, what am I doing tonight?"

Lex took from his pocket a plastic card and handed it to Chloe. Chloe looked it over for a moment before looking up at Lex, the shock evident on her face. "That's an ID. It's not fake either."

"You're a registered citizen," Lex said easily, his eyes never leaving her face.

Clark couldn't have been happier for Chloe, but at the same time he couldn't fathom how he'd gotten so unlucky. Just because of one experience—one brand—he was condemned.

"Clark, did you hear me?"

Clark jerked his head up to find Chloe looking at him, her expression one of slight annoyance, while Lex was looking at him with something close to amusement. "I asked if you thought that was alright."

He nodded fervently. "Definitely. There's no way you could be protected better."

She looked over the card again with a long sweeping glance, all the while turning the bit of plastic over between her fingers. "It's a real one?" she asked, still sounding a bit uncertain.

Lex nodded. "Yes, but don't go anywhere that, oh, say, _Lana_ could see you. It may be real but it's not foolproof."

She nodded. "How did you get this?"

He merely laughed a little. "I've got connections at both the top and the bottom. Let's just say that when you offer the manufacturer of these ID's something rather substantial he's more than willing to make an ID for a person who, up until two days ago, didn't legally exist."

"Where do you suggest I go tonight, then?" she questioned. Clark was surprised that she hadn't protested about how Lex had gotten the ID, not because she was so incredibly high-moraled, but because it was _Lex_, and everything he did was wrong.

"I'd suggest some kind of inconspicuous club. It's amazing the things that you pick up there. You might even find out some stuff I don't know." He gave her a look that actually seemed to show that he was willing to place some trust in her. "You were going to be a reporter, and you never lost that instinct; you'll know what to look for."

She grinned a little, but pocketed the ID and walked out, no doubt off to put on some of the other clothes Lex had left for her. Clark shook his head, feeling nothing but affection. Chloe always had loved to try on clothes.

"I'm sorry, Clark," Lex said suddenly.

He glanced up from where he'd been staring at the floor. "Why?"

"Because I know you're probably thinking on how unfair it is that just by chance you got a brand and she didn't."

"I wouldn't change the way it played out," he said seriously. "Unless of course it meant neither of us had it. But I'd never wish for Chloe to have it and me not to."

Lex smiled softly and murmured, "I know, but it still doesn't really soften the blow of bad luck."

"Wasn't it Machiavelli who compared us to a city with strong walls, and fate to a raging river? The river can hit the city, but if the city is well prepared the river won't destroy it. It might change it, but it won't destroy it."

Lex smiled again. "Since when did you read Machiavelli?"

"You get bored in those hideouts. I had to have something to do late at night."

"Well, you've got something to do late tonight, and it's called helping me pull off a facade seamlessly."

Clark only shook his head in disbelief. Lex didn't really need his help to pull anything off, and if Clark hadn't been around in the first place the impending act wouldn't have been needed.

"I'll see if I'm busy," he replied caustically.

Lex raised an eyebrow slightly. "If you don't, the only thing you'll be busy with is a trial." His voice was light and mocking, showing that he hadn't really taken Clark's 'I'm busy' comment seriously, but he was issuing a warning non-the-less.

"Point taken," Clark muttered softly.

"Follow me," Lex commanded, his grin growing because he realized he'd won a fight that hadn't even been started.

--------------------------

Lex stopped him in front of his bedroom door. "What's up?" Clark inquired, somewhat annoyed at Lex stopping him after he'd made him go there in the first place.

"There's a camera in there," Lex said bluntly.

"What?" Suddenly Lex seemed a whole lot more annoying for not mentioning that tiny detail. "How!"

"They planted it when they thought I was out. They don't know that I do sweeps every night, though. Although, I suppose they will when I stage a meeting tomorrow, instructing how I don't want any of my 'competitors' listening in."

"So basically by tomorrow you're going to get rid of the bugs by pretending that you're doing it for the sake of beating out your competition? You're basically going to make them think you think that some other noble planted the bug?"

"Not basically, Clark—totally. Now, the raiding party will be in around one in the morning. They'll apologize profusely once we put on a brilliant act."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, you know I'm going to end up following your lead on whatever stupid act we're going to pull to cover things up."

"Good," Lex said approvingly, smiling so that all his teeth showed. "This could get very, very interesting, very, very fast—just so you know."

"Everything you do tends to do that, Lex," he pointed out. And wasn't that really the truth? It had been what had made his high school years so interesting, after all.

"Try to at least act like this is natural," Lex said softly, suddenly grabbing his shoulder and shoving him up against and then through the door.

Clark barely had time to gain a little balance before Lex shoved him down on the bed. He let out a sharp cry as he hit the mattress, his head bouncing as it hit it. "Lex!" he called out sharply.

"Act like this is natural," Lex whispered into his ear.

Oh, yeah, Lex, natural. How did he know what was natural? He'd never done this before, and somehow he didn't think it was the same as it was with Chloe.

He jerked sharply when Lex's hand lightly touched his back, his thumb rubbing slightly. He downright jumped when Lex reached down and pulled his shirt over his head. "I'm tired," Lex murmured suddenly, but loud enough so that he was clearly audible. "You've already done your job for tonight."

Clark hated it when Lex talked to him like that, even when it was a facade. The coolness of his voice penetrated Clark's being, and he hated it. He didn't like being regarded like an object, but, in this case he understood its necessity.

Lex rolled over slightly, and a sharp tug at the hem of his pajamas told Clark to do the same. Lex's lips brushed his ear in what would seem to the camera like a light kiss, but the whispered, "Try to sleep," told Clark that it was only a cover-up.

Yeah, right...sleep. He let Lex reach and arm around him, holding him slightly. His back was to Lex's chest, and while it made for a slight amount of uncomfortably on Clark's part, it wasn't too bad. In his life he'd done much worse things than simply sleeping—as in the slumber form of the word—with his best friend.

Lex's breath was soft on the back of his neck, and its pattern told Clark that Lex wasn't asleep. He probably wouldn't sleep either, and Clark knew that. Lex was always on his guard, and in this situation sleep just wouldn't work.

He knew Lex didn't mind if he slept, though. In fact, he probably wanted him to, because Clark really couldn't pretend well. And he was tired. Lex would watch out for him until he woke up, he figured. A few minutes later he drifted off, his mind drifting somewhere back in the days of Smallville.


	18. Chapter 18

Clark thought he must have been really, really tired because the door opening had obviously failed to wake him. At least that was the conclusion that Clark drew at seeing the guard a few feet away.

He wondered how he'd woken up at all until Lex gave his arm one last shake. "Can I help you?" Lex asked coolly.

"Oh, Mr. Luthor, we're sorry."

Lex was moving off the bed behind Clark and coming to stand before the men. Clark raised his eyes to scan the room. There were one, two, three, four, five men and..._Lana_? He wondered if Lex had known about that part of the itinerary for the night.

He didn't have time to really dwell on it, because Lex seemed it would be a good idea to reach forward, wrap his hand in his hair, and shove his face into a pillow. Clark struggled a little at first, but then he realized that his face must have been giving something away. Had he looked at Lana in shock?

"I would like an explanation. The first time this happened I could accept that it was an inspection, but this is the second time. This seems suspiciously like you're watching me." The tone of Lex's voice told them all too clearly that he didn't just _suspect_ that they were watching him; it implied that he knew.

The man who seemed to be in charge dropped his eyes. "We were called in to investigate."

"On what charges?" Lex demanded sharply. Clark shifted a little against the pillow and Lex's hand came out of no where and slapped his shoulder hard.

Clark jerked, but fell back against the pillow. His shoulder stung and his mind was reeling with confusion. "Will you stay still, damn it?" Lex barked, everything about him giving off the vibe of a frustrated man who was taking it out on the boy in his bed. "On what charges?" he repeated again, pretending to draw in a breath in frustration.

"That this boy is...more than a bed warmer."

Lex laughed, and Clark shivered at the coldness in that sound. He expected icicles to appear at any moment. He was really beginning to think that if the whole double agent thing didn't work out for Lex that he should just become an actor.

"That's absurd. He's very pretty, yes, but he's no more than a simple bed toy." Clark turned his head just a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to see the proceedings in the room.

"That's a lie and you know it."

Lana stepped forward, her eyes blazing. The tight purple dress that she was wearing fluttered a bit around her knees. She looked every inch the high society woman. Anger burned in Clark's stomach. "You haven't even slept with him."

"I'm sorry, Miss...Lang, isn't it?"

"You know what my name is, _Mr. Luthor_."

Lex crossed his arms deliberately and gave her a slightly affronted looked. "I get the feeling that you seem to think I know you better than I do. I don't believe we've ever really sat down and talked."

Yes, Clark thought, Lex was one of the best actors he'd ever met. Lying was worth it just to see the horrified look on Lana's face.

"You're playing a dangerous game," she told him, her lips going thin.

"My life is not a game, Miss. Lang," Lex told her softly. "I take my position in this empire seriously. Don't you?"

That was a direct hit. Lana should have known she couldn't play with someone as skilled and practiced as Lex and still come out on top. Still, Clark had to hand it to her, her practiced answer of, "Of course I do," was well said and quite convincing.

"Um, Miss. Lang," one of the guards said softly, clearing his throat. "I don't believe we've found anything amiss here. They were asleep in a bed. By all appearances this seemed to be just what Mr. Luthor says it is and nothing more."

Lana turned to glare at the guard before turning back to Lex. "If he's really your lover then why aren't there any..._signs_ of it on your bed."

Lex smirked. "Although the euphemism is appreciated, it isn't necessary. There's no cum on the bed because we didn't do anything on this particular night. There was a bit of simple kissing and then I decided that I was tired and wished to get some sleep."

"You're lying," she said coolly.

Lex only smiled at her. "I assure you that I am not."

"Miss. Lang, he's-he's not lying," another guard told her tentatively. With a glance at Lex he said, "I apologize, Mr. Luthor, but it was necessary to bug your room."

Both Lana and Lex's eyes widened. Lex, however, was the first to speak.

"That is a direct breech on my privacy and you can be certain it will be brought to the attention of the council."

Lana paled a little at that prospect but kept her cool quite well. Clark saw that Lex had a sort of sparkle in his eye. He knew from experience that Lex only got that look when he'd won something that he'd particularly wanted.

"I think it would be best if you left now," Lex said seriously, almost as if he were discussing a business proposition. "And I would prefer you curtail these late night visits to my home." His voice was curt and left no room for argument. Clark didn't know how Lex could be lying and still make people feel so foolish when they were on the right path.

"Certainly. We are very sorry to have bothered you," the first guard said honestly. "Miss. Lang, there is nothing that we can see that is amiss here."

The guards began to leave the room, and Lana was forced to reluctantly follow them or to risk looking very suspicious. However, the fear of looking suspicious didn't stop her from pausing at the door and looking over her shoulder to shoot them both a venomous glare. Clark knew the fight wasn't over by any stretch of the imagination.

-------------------------------------

Clark was a smart boy, and he knew the drill after only one time to learn. He didn't make any attempt to get out of the bed after the aliens left, and he didn't move while Lex shut the door. They'd supposedly removed the camera, but he knew not to move until Lex could sweep the rest of the area.

Lex didn't say anything, but he curled up behind him again. Lex's hand rested loosely on his hip, and Clark assumed Lex suspected that there were still cameras around. Clark would have been surprised if there hadn't been.

Nothing else would happen that night. Clark knew that, and so it provided him with the security to sleep easily. It wasn't long before he dropped off into slumber, his mind on just what Lana had done to betray him.

-------------------------------------

"You can get up now."

Lex's voice bore into Clark's sleep fogged mind, as did the gentle shaking of his arm.

"Place clean?" he murmured, turning over to face Lex.

"Yes. There are no bugs to speak of," Lex said seriously. "Nice job last night, by the way. Although, I've got to say, you looked at Lana with such shock. I was surprised I could shove your face into the pillow fast enough to hide it."

Clark might have thought Lex was annoyed with him, had he not looked up at him. Lex was grinning softly and his eyes sparkled a little. Apparently he was one of those people who found potentially deadly mishaps amusing.

"The look on her face—it's hard to stay unreadable when something like that happens."

"It was an amusing look," Lex agreed, a smile twisting at the corners of his mouth. "Anyway, I'm going to go to the council building the morning. Amuse yourself with Chloe."

Clark grinned. He was pretty sure they could find _something_ to occupy their time. "What are you going for?" he asked.

"To try to prevent a bill that could get you killed from passing."

Unconsciously, Clark raised his hand and began to scratch at the brand on his back. His fingertips brushed the raised parts of his skin, as he had no shirt on. He immediately jumped and pulled his hand away.

Lex was watching him quietly when he looked up. It was a look of pure worry, although Clark wasn't sure how Lex still managed to worry about him. He thought that if he did, what with all the near-death situations Clark got himself into, Lex should have about the highest blood pressure of anyone Clark had ever met.

"Don't do that," Lex said after a moment.

Clark immediately let his hand drop. "What does her bill propose?" he inquired, trying to change the subject.

It seemed Lex was willing to let him, because he just shrugged and picked his tie up off the end of the bed. He began to tie it, looking in the mirror, as he answered, "It basically says that anyone of your criminal level should be executed, because you are far too dangerous to the regime."

"Can you stop it from getting passed?"

He sat up in the bed and swung his feet around to the floor, still watching Lex intently for an answer.

Lex sighed and finished tying his tie. He turned around from the nightstand and reached for a belt which was also on the bed, slipping it through the loops as he said, "I really don't know, Clark. To be honest with you, it's a good move." He sighed as he buckled his belt. "If I were really trying to secure the future of this regime I'd suggest the same thing. It's going to be very hard for me to fight it and still appear completely loyal."

Clark nodded as he got off the bed. A steaming hot shower sounded pretty good at that point. "Good luck," he called as he headed off into the bathroom. He reflected that he was pretty glad he had Lex on his side, especially since he didn't believe in luck.

------------------------------------------

Clark thought Chloe looked like an angel when she was sleeping. All the fierceness of her face that came with survival as well as the instincts of someone who had planned to be a journalist simply bled away while she was sleeping. He liked her either way, but this was a way he seldom saw her and he enjoyed it.

"Late night?" he asked as he settled beside her.

"Emmm," she muttered, recognizing his voice and curling in against his hip. Her hand came up and slipped around his waist. When she pulled back he complied and came to rest with his head on the pillow next to her.

For a moment he simply stared into her eyes. He hated when he finally had to break the silence to ask questions. "Did you find anything out?"

She yawned and stretched a little under the covers. "Tidbits of information, yes."

"Such as?" he questioned.

"Not a lot really," she said truthfully. "Just a few bits of gossip. It might come in handy later, though, if I've got to sit through some sort of dinner and need to be able to make conversation."

Clark couldn't help but feel a little jealous. He'd never be able to play that part again, because he'd been unlucky enough to receive the brand—the defining mark.

"Want to go for a walk outside?" she asked after a moment.

He shifted away from her a little. "Chloe, you know that I can't go outside."

"No, I know that Lex told you that, and for some reason you're listening." She raised her eyebrow slightly and propped herself up on an elbow while searching his face for a reaction.

"I know you don't like him, but I'd be dead if he hadn't saved me. So would you," he pointed out seriously. Still, the look she was giving him was getting to him.

"You're right," she admitted. "I don't like him. I think he probably would have let me die if you weren't involved. Is that what you wanted to hear?" she asked, her tone rising a little. She dropped it again to an almost seductive tone as she said, "C'mon, Clark. I just want to be outside in the fresh air with you again."

"I don't think it's a good idea," he protested, but he could feel his resolve softening. He knew it wasn't the smartest thing, but Chloe had always walked a little on the wild side. He was fairly sure she didn't understand the seriousness of the situation, but for some reason he couldn't simply tell her no.

"Don't you want to smell the air again, see the sun, be outside?" she coaxed.

He bit his lip slightly and pulled away from her, standing up. She had a way of getting passed his best defenses. "Of course I do, but-"

"But nothing. Lex Luthor is not supreme. You don't have to do what he says."

"I gave him my word."

"It's just a walk, Clark," she said with a sigh. "We've taken walks through battle zones before."

His resolve crumbled. He so desperately did want to be outside again. "Let me get dressed," he said with a sigh. The huge smile that she gave him almost made it worth it.

------------------------------

Clark had at least insisted that he color his hair if they went outside. Chloe hadn't protested that. In fact, she seemed to think it was a good idea.

Clark hadn't been outside since the day in the market. It was such a wonderful feeling to have the sun beating down on your face and the breeze flowing through your hair. He wondered how he'd been able to live in bunkers for the past five years.

So far nothing bad had happened at all. They'd gone street shopping, or rather Chloe had gone shopping and had dragged Clark with her. While he had no interest in it he did enjoy the beautiful smile that it caused her mouth to erupt into.

All of Lex's warnings were seeming very far away. Had he only been bluffing about the scanner and brand thing? Clark was seriously beginning to wonder.

"Green or blue, Clark? Clark!"

He looked back at Chloe. "Blue always looks nice on you," he told her with a grin.

"Oh, please, Clark," she said with a laugh. "You think anything looks good on me as long as you get to take it off later."

He colored a little at her words, but smiled back. "Fair point."

"Up for a little walking along the river?" she asked hopefully, putting the shirts back.

He couldn't turn her down. He knew that they should probably get back to the mansion, but nothing had happened so far, and Clark was feeling confident.

"Sure," he replied, holding out his hand.

She quickly took it and they began to stroll down the street. Denver wasn't like it had been before the aliens came, Clark reflected. They'd completely revamped it. He was pretty sure the only thing they'd left the same was the name.

Cars passed by on the street next to them, and they even passed a few other people on the sidewalk. "It's good to feel the sun," Clark said after a few minutes.

"It's good to be alive," she added. "Did you ever, you know...think you were going to die?" she asked quietly, sounding almost ashamed for thinking such a thing.

"I was sure I was," he said bluntly. "Why?"

She shrugged, her hand still in his. "When I was in one of those camps I was sure I was going to die. I didn't even get a brand because everyone else was sure too. Is it such a bad thing that I pretty much gave up?"

He shook his head. "No, Chloe. You're only human."

She smiled a little at his choice of words. "Not all of us can be Superman."

He looked down at her and smiled. This was what love felt like, he realized. He loved Chloe passionately, unrelentingly, and forever. She was his everything. He was about to say something when some shouting at the end of the block stopped him.

"What's that?" she asked, freezing against his side.

Clark realized what it was immediately. "Run," he told her, instantly dropping her hand. "Meet me back at Lex's mansion."

He didn't know where he'd been picked up, but he knew he had been. He also knew that it hadn't been Chloe that the scanners had found, but him. She'd get away fine, but he didn't like his chances so well.

He immediately began to walk the opposite way down the street. More shouts echoed behind him and he saw as they began to run towards him. Clark broke out into a run. It wasn't like he had anything left to loose by being noticed, anyway.

People stared at him as he ran by, but no one made a move to stop him. He knew he was about a half a mile away from Lex's mansion, but he'd have to lose them if he wanted to go back there. He knew better than to lead them to Lex.

The pounding of feet was obvious behind him, and he knew they were coming fast. Hoping for some luck, he ducked into an ally. It was a long, dark way between two buildings and, to Clark's dismay, the end was blocked with a large chain link fence.

He knew his only chance was to try to climb it somehow, because he certainly couldn't come back the way he'd come in. The thought that he was done crossed his mind, but allowing himself to quit was not an option. Clark had never been a quitter.

He spotted a dumpster against the fence and got himself up on it just as they came around the corner. There were shouted words in the alien language that Clark couldn't decipher as he grabbed the top of the fence to try to get over it.

His mind worked furiously as he thought of all the reasons he needed to make it over that fence. He had too much to live for to simply be killed. He had to get over the fence.

A gunshot sounded and searing pain ripped through his shoulder. Clark saw white as pain cascaded up his shoulder and through his body. A warm stickiness began to envelope his arm.

But he was not a quitter.

He never had been.

Mustering up all his strength, he pushed himself over the fence.

And, to his surprise, he made it.

The ground was not at all soft on the other side of the fence as he landed, and pain exploded in his right ankle. Only sheer force of will made him stand and continue at a broken-gated jog towards safety.

There was a lot of blood on his arm, and he prayed he made it back to the mansion before he passed out. God seemed to be on his side, though, because the alleyway seemed to have cut off the loop he would have had to take.

Looming before him was Lex's mansion.

Without hesitating, he limped as fast as he could around to the back gate. Mercifully, it was still unlocked, as that was the way he and Chloe had gone out. He quickly slipped inside and shut it, still forcing himself to hurry to the small door nearly hidden by some bushes. He and Chloe had had to really search around for an inconspicuous way out, and he was thankful that they'd found it.

He pushed his way inside and locked the door behind him. He hadn't thought he'd ever been so relived to hear the click of a lock in his life. Still forcing himself on, he made his way up the stairs to a main hallway. Blood was dripping off his arm onto the floor and he nearly gagged when he slipped in it.

Just a little further, he kept telling himself. All he had to do was make it to Lex's office, because Lex should have been home by that time. With any luck he would be.

Clark finally made it just as he was on the verge of passing out. "Lex!" he bellowed from outside Lex's door.

The noise of a chair scraping on the floor as it was pushed back away from a desk could be heard. Clark sighed in relief as he heard it, just as his legs gave out.

The door opened a moment later and Lex stepped into the hallway. "Clark?" he asked, glancing around for someone at eye level. At first he didn't see Clark, but then it seemed like he caught sight of him in his peripheral vision. A double take ensued.

"Clark!" he shouted when he saw him lying on the floor, bleeding. His face paled a little more than was normal. "What happened? Did someone break into the mansion?"

Clark shook his head, his strength fast failing. It was like all his reserves had gone away since he knew he was safe. Lex would take care of things. Clark knew he would.

"Then what?"

"I...got shot."

"I can see that!" Lex exclaimed incredulously, looking at Clark in disbelief. Clark was reminded of the time Lex had found him lying on his barn floor after Jason had attacked him. The same worry was so very prominent on his friend's face.

"I think the bullet's...still...in there," he managed to say. The edges of his vision were beginning to blur considerably. Lex was getting blurry as well, and Clark was having to fight desperately to retain a hold on consciousness.

"It'll be all right, Clark," he heard Lex say. After that everything just became too fuzzy. He was pleasantly warm, and his reasons for staying awake were fast fleeing from his mind. Eventually they vanished all together, as did his hold on consciousness.


	19. Chapter 19

"What were you thinking?"

Clark was fast deciding that waking up to voices talking was not the way to go. And these voices didn't sound particularly happy, either.

"You don't control his life!"

No, definitely not happy. What were Chloe and Lex fighting about this time?

"You don't control Clark either!"

Heh, him. Yeah, that was right.

"I don't try to control him."

"No? He wouldn't have left this mansion otherwise. Look, I don't give a shit what you think. I'm not going to let him kill himself because while you may not have a brand, he does. You are not the only one who cares about him, Chloe!"

Lex's voice sounded incredibly threatening, and Clark just couldn't believe that that tone was out of concern for_ him_. Did Lex really care that much? Did Chloe?

"You can't lock him up."

"Well, thanks to you he's going to have even less freedom now."

"What, you're actually going to lock him up?"

"No, but because of you insisting that he join you for a walk, and because of his evasion of the guards, they've decided to push Lana's proposal through."

There was silence for a moment, and Clark desperately struggled to understand what Lex had just said. Was he marked for death now?

"You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Clark still hadn't opened his eyes, but he was fairly sure Lex probably wasn't smiling. This didn't seem like something Lex would smile at.

"You can stop it?"

"Oh, _now_ you want me to stop him from getting killed. It would have been so much easier if the bill hadn't been passed in the first place!"

"I didn't know what was at stake!"

"You've made this your life, Chloe!" Lex's voice exploded. "You're basically a career terrorist, or, as I'm sure you'd rather be called, freedom fighter. You should know by now that something is always at stake. You should know that if I tell him to do something I've probably got a damn good reason for it, even if I don't share it with you."

"He's the one who knows you, not me." Her voice was like cold steel, and Clark shivered. "He knows the games you play, even if you don't usually play them with him. You can't expect me to understand your games."

"Your life depends on reading people. If you can't figure out something that simple about me then you're really in the wrong business."

"This isn't a business, Lex. This is something we fight for because we believe in it. It's something that we believe in enough to put our lives on the line for. It's something you obviously don't understand, or perhaps you're just too cowardly to stand up and do the right thing. Was that really why you joined the aliens? Because you were too afraid to join the resistance?"

Clark shifted a little on the bed. His shoulder ached and he thought he could feel some sort of brace on his ankle.

"No, Chloe, I wasn't scared. I just knew it would fail." Lex's voice paused for a moment, and when he spoke again his tone was calmer. " This isn't getting up anywhere, so why don't you just tell me what you thinking."

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you risk everything just so you could go for a walk?"

"I didn't think we were risking much. I don't even know how they found us."

Lex's laugh sounded cold. "Clark's pride has a way of getting him in precarious situations." He paused and then said, "Didn't he tell you that at the front of every building there is a scanner that scans the bodies of people for the brand which he has?"

There was no reply for at least three seconds. Then the emotionless, "No," could be heard.

"I didn't think so," Lex said sharply. "He's ashamed."

"We didn't go in any buildings."

"Did you go near any of the outdoor stalls?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I wanted to go shopping. I dragged him along with me."

Lex's sigh was loud and exasperated. "Was your shopping worth his life?"

"No," she replied softly.

"Then perhaps you should listen to me next time. I'm only trying to protect him."

"I don't trust you." Her tone sounded so cynical. Clark could almost envision her glare.

"I know, but he does. Shouldn't that be enough for you?"

"It's the only reason I'm putting up with any of this."

Clark heard the sharp click of heels on the floor, and a moment later the door slammed shut. Chloe must have been in a really bad mood, he decided. Perhaps staying asleep would be good. After all, he knew Lex was going to go up one side of him and down the other. Still, it was no use to prolong the inevitable.

He forced his eyes open. Lex was watching him. When he saw Clark open his eyes he smiled softly. "I thought you might have been waking up."

Clark tried to move a little and pain flashed through his shoulder. "Ahh," he muttered. Giving Lex a sheepish smile he said, "Guess I should have stayed asleep."

"What where you thinking?" Lex asked bluntly, not pulling any punches.

"I said 'no' at first."

"But she kept begging and whining and you gave in, am I right?"

Clark looked at him with something that was cross between sheepishness and shame. "More or less."

Lex's gaze remained hard, despite Clark's best attempts to melt it a little. "You could have been killed." Apparently Lex was going to be very tunnel visioned on this particular issue.

"I wasn't."

"No, and Alexander Hamilton wasn't killed the first time he fought in a duel either. There are only so many times that you can cheat fate, Clark. Stop trying."

Trust Lex to bring history into everything. Still, Clark knew he was right. It had been a lot easier to cheat fate when he'd had super powers.

"I wasn't trying to cheat anything!"

He sounded whiny, even to himself. Lex was definitely going to win this one...

"I told you not to leave this mansion."

"Look, I'm sorry," he said tiredly, running a hand through his own hair. Trying not to jostle himself too much, he scooted up against the headboard. His shoulder hurt when he moved, and upon a closer look he saw that his arm was in a sling.

"Sorry's not good enough," Lex hissed back, but his voice sounded so tired. "The bill got passed," he finally said after a few moments of silence. Clark had been wondering when that would have come up. "You're officially marked for death."

Clark swallowed heavily. "How-?" He didn't know how to ask what he was supposed to do now. The words just weren't being forthcoming.

"How are you supposed to deal with this?" Lex finished for him. Clark figured that was close enough and nodded. "You're not leaving the mansion again, that's for sure. I'm also going to fake your death."

"Lana will never buy that."

"Doesn't matter if she does or not, as long as the regime does."

"How are you going to do it?" Lex was really too good at that sort of thing, and Clark wasn't sure that he really wanted to know. Still, he knew it was something that he had to ask.

Lex sighed and sat down on the bed, his anger beginning to fade. "I'll use a double."

"Already dead?"

"Don't ask me those questions," Lex said softly.

Clark narrowed his eyes slightly as something he'd thought he'd long ago lost clenched painfully in his chest. He'd...killed people. He shouldn't be feeling this, should he?

"You can't kill for me, Lex," he rebuked him softly.

Lex's eyes never left his face as he said softly, "I have before."

Clark swallowed, feeling a little sick and suddenly very dizzy. He knew about Nixon, knew that that incident had been more to protect his secret than anything, but it was still hard to accept. It was something he tried desperately not to think about.

"No again, though," he said after a little while. "Please."

Lex only looked at him and stood up. Clark didn't know whether that was a 'yes' or a 'no', but he found it easier not to ask and just be...idealistic.

"Try to get some more rest," Lex told him. "You're so shot up on painkillers right now that it's a wonder you're even awake."

Since he mentioned it, Clark had to admit that he did feel pretty sleepy. He allowed himself to settle back into the pillows as Lex left the room, the click of the door shutting and Lex's footsteps going down the hall both being heard. A few minutes later he drifted off.

-----------------------------

It was the screams that woke him. Terrible, blood-curdling screams of pure terror and raw pain. It was like what he'd heard when he'd been branded.

Before he knew what he was doing he shot up out of bed and hobbled over to the door, the let he'd fallen on still hurting him a little. The screams really weren't that loud, but after what he'd been through just that noise sent his heart to beating ten times too fast. His shoulder throbbed with the jostle of his gate, and only the sound of the screams kept him going.

He made his way down the halls, still following the noise. It was getting louder and he realized that whatever was happening was going on in the square in front of Lex's house. He had no idea why Lex had built his house on one of the most public areas, right near where the markets were, but he had. Or maybe the aliens had told him to build it there. Clark didn't know, and at this point he really didn't care.

When Clark reached the front of the mansion and looked out the large second floor window he was aghast with what he saw.

He imagined it was what the French Revolution must have been like. There were so many prisoners, all of them panicked and many screaming. They were all being dragged towards the center of the square where there was a huge bonfire.

It may have been completely dark out, and Clark was thankful for that considering he was standing in a window which would have been in plain sight during the day, but the bonfire lit up the square so well that Clark could see the fear in the people's faces. It was terribly sickening.

The aliens were systematically eliminating the prisoners, but not before checking their backs. Clark squinted and realized they were checking for the brand-the one on _his_ back.

He was among those condemned.

The aliens were mercilessly cutting the people down and then throwing them into the fire. Clark thought it was a miracle that they were at least killing them first, but he didn't' think it was really out of mercy. His stomach clenched brutally when he saw a young woman—perhaps in her late teens—dragged forward and killed.

So much death.

So much destruction.

He heard himself make a soft, primal cry before sinking to the floor. His finger tips on the hand of his good arm grasped the hard wood of the windowsill and held him up just far enough that he could see. "No, no," he heard himself mutter.

He could smell burning flesh, and he wondered if that was really from the fires or simply from the memory of what it had smelled like in the camps. It was sickening in a way Clark hadn't known existed.

He clambered to his knees and clung to the windowsill firmly. It was a terribly nauseating scene, but he couldn't look away. There was something about it that made him watch. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that by all rights that should have been his death.

"Damn it, Clark," he heard Lex say softly from behind him. "Get away from the window."

He didn't listen, or maybe Lex's words just didn't sink into his consciousness. "I said get away from the window!" Lex yelled this time. "Now!"

That got through his consciousness and he slowly tore his eyes away from the scene before him. "Lex," he said softly.

"In the flesh, now get over here."

For some reason Lex wouldn't come out of the shadows of the hallway. Clark didn't know why at first until he realized Lex couldn't even be _glimpsed_ pulling someone away from the window. Clark shouldn't even have been at the window in the first place. If he was seen it could get them both killed.

He made a move to stand, and Lex immediately motioned for him to stay down. He felt the insane urge to let out the laugher that was hysterically bubbling up inside of him. He wasn't thinking clearly at all.

Still, he moved towards Lex. He didn't protest when Lex pulled him to his feet and took his face in his hands. Clark wasn't sure what he was doing at first and he began to let his eyes drift shut.

"Eyes open," Lex ordered firmly.

Clark opened his eyes, because Lex really wasn't leaving that open for debate. "I'm locking your door next time," Lex announced, though Clark thought it was more to himself than to Clark. "You're going into shock. It's a small wonder after all you've seen." Ah, so that was why Lex had wanted to see his face and his eyes. He'd wanted to see if there were signs of shock in them, Clark realized.

"Smells-Smells like the camps," Clark said softly, not even really sure of what he was saying. He wished that his parents had been there to hold him—like his dad had done when the message in the ship had said he was sent to earth to conquer. He would have just liked them to hold him and maybe gently stroke his hair, like the time his mom had when she'd found him lying in the caves at the start of his senor year after Kal-el and the black kryptonite.

"I know," Lex said softly, letting one hand drop from Clark's face and go to his arm instead. "I know." Though Clark was distracted, he heard Lex mutter under his breath, "Where the hell is Chloe when I need her?"

Clark made a move to turn away from him and look back at the window, but Lex's one hand closed on a fistful of his hair. "Stay looking at me. Don't look outside." Clark didn't listen at first and tried to turn against Lex's grip. "I said _don't_ look outside," he repeated sharply.

Clark listened that time and focused on Lex as Lex gently pulled him down the hall and, although his gate was that of a limp and painfully slow, they were making progress. The window disappeared from view and they moved down the hall a little further.

Clark felt strange. There was a part of him that knew he had to keep it together; that his life just might depend on it. But another part of his brain was so intent on focusing on flashbacks that he simply couldn't stop it.

Lex's eyes left his face for just a moment as he glanced at the door next to him. Seeming to make a quick decision, he pulled Clark through it, locking it behind them.

Clark was just sane enough at that point to notice that it was apparently a spare bedroom and, although it clearly hadn't been used in a while, it was workable. The bed was a canopy, and Clark found himself smiling at that, though, he wasn't quite sure why.

"Lie down," Lex commanded, and Clark immediately felt himself being lowered into the bed. "I don't want you to move from this spot." Lex's voice was so low, and there was absolutely _no_ room for argument whatsoever. "Nod if you understand."

Clark understood and, really, he didn't think his legs could hold him anyway. He nodded and Lex smiled weakly.

At first Clark didn't understand what was going on. Then he heard Lex's footsteps leaving the room. At first his heart skipped a few beats, though, he wasn't sure why. It just seemed like it wasn't like Lex to leave when he was feeling so...strange.

The door opened again and Lex returned. Clark breathed a little easier and suddenly found himself wishing for Chloe. Chloe would be alright he reminded himself; she didn't have a brand. And, as much as Clark liked Lex, he wasn't someone he could curl up against and just hold onto. And Clark so desperately wanted that at the moment. As Lex settled down next to him he could feel a little bit of his hold on reality returning.

"I'm-I'm alright, Lex," he told his friend softly. "I just lost it there for a moment."

Lex hand had been moving towards him in the dark, and it paused at that statement. "I'm still giving you a sedative."

"No, you don't need to," he protested. He really wanted to be in control of his body at that point, although there was something intriguing about worriless slumber.

"I'll decide what I do and don't need to do, thanks," he said softly, tipping Clark's head to the side as he talked. "Stay still."

Clark found he was a little too tired to argue. Lex probably had a good reason for drugging him anyway.

"Where's Chloe?" Clark found himself mumbling.

"She's fine, Clark," Lex promised him.

Clark didn't even protest as the needle slid in his neck, and he only moaned a little as the drug was administered. "Shhh," he heard Lex say softly, accompanied by a soothing brush of his hair.

After that everything went black.


	20. Chapter 20

I have disabled the anonymous review options on my stories. I want to once again stress that I have no problem taking criticism, but it really annoys the heck out me when the people won't sign their reviews.

I'm also a bit confused as to a review that I received that told me that it "was about time something happened" in this story. I'm not trying to be rude, and I do appreciate your thoughts, however, I'm confused as to what you consider "something happening". As for the interaction of Lex and Clark, I feel that, given the nature of the events both men have gone through, that it is somewhat realistic. I'm only human, and I can't be perfect. All AU stories are OOC to some extent, anyway. You may not feel that way, but by all means, you can write your own story. Once again, I don't mean to be nasty or snappy, but I'm rather tired of being told how to write my story, and then not having the reviewer sign it.

To all of you who have faithfully followed this story from the beginning and have been reviewing: Thank you! I really appreciate the support. There are times when I consider just giving up writing because of a few select people who can't seemed to be bothered with courtesy, but because of people like you I know that's not the right thing to do. Thanks, and please keep reviewing!

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It was so quiet. It almost felt to Clark like he was at the bottom of the lake, and that would explain the sort of murky feeling in his brain. A moment of thinking and he realized that had to be the effects of the sedatives, which were just beginning to wear off.

The quiet seeped into his bones, and it felt so different—so nice—compared to the night before. Clark never wanted to go through anything like that again.

His lips felt so dry, though, and he found that he wanted water. It took a little doing, but he finally summoned up the awareness to mumble, "water". He heard voices as soon as he uttered the word as well as a few noises that meant people were moving about the room.

A short time later a cup was held to his lips, and he found himself gulping thirstily. That seemed to clear some of the cobwebs in his head, and for that he was immensely thankful. He'd never liked feeling out of control of his body.

"Is that my welcome back to the land of the living?" he asked as he opened his eyes.

Both Chloe and Lex were sitting in chairs next to his bed, both glaring at the other. When he spoke their eyes immediately turned to him and their expressions softened. "More or less," Lex said with a small smile.

"How are you feeling?" Chloe asked, shooting a slightly angry glance at Lex.

"Better," he replied truthfully. Looking at Lex, he apologized, "Sorry I lost it like that."

Lex shook his head. "Don't be; everyone has a limit. It's a classic thing with war veterans to have flash backs, and God knows you've seen enough to have that kind of baggage."

"What was last night?" he asked.

"That," Lex began, his eyes darkening, "was the implementation of Lana's new bill."

"Wow, she really holds a grudge. I didn't think she'd want me killed like _that_."

Chloe laughed bitterly. "At this point she just wants you gone." Clark didn't like that bitter look on Chloe's face. He wanted to remember her as the editor of the torch who had often smiled, and he found himself wondering what she would have done with her life if the aliens hadn't invaded.

"Have you got a plan?" he asked Lex.

Lex dropped his eyes. "Yes."

"But we're not using it!" Chloe spat angrily, her eyes flashing.

"Have you got a better one?" Lex demanded, raising his voice.

"That isn't fair to him!" she full-out shouted. Her cheeks were beginning to color in her fury.

"Why don't you tell me what it is and I'll decide if it's fair or not," Clark said softly.

He had to admit that he liked the way their heads whipped around to look at him. It reminded him that, whatever it was, they weren't angry with him.

"Lex wants to change your brand," Chloe said finally, her anger at Lex flowing off her in waves.

Clark looked at him thoughtfully. "Can you do that?"

Lex watched him carefully, as if gauging his reaction. "Yes. The inner circle of your brand is dark when you're a prisoner only a level lower than yourself. That would be easy to change for someone like me who could easily get the materials to get it changed."

Clark had to admit that the thought of going through _that_ again terrified him. But it would be a good cover and a way to get him off of death row. At the moment that was a rather important detail.

"Do it," he said after a moment of thought.

"No!" Chloe protested, her voice cutting through the stillness of the room. "No."

Lex looked incredibly exasperated, as if he just wished Chloe would shut up. "What do you think he's got to loose?"

"Chloe, I-I really don't have many other options," he explained softly. "This would protect me."

Clark saw the tears in her eyes, but he wasn't quite sure why. He wasn't at all sure when she got up and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. He wasn't sure but, for all his problems, he wished he could make it better.

-------------------------------------

Clark didn't think he'd ever be ready to do have it done again, drugged or not. Still, drugged was most definitely preferable, and Lex had insisted that Clark be asleep for it. Clark certainly hadn't argued at all.

Waking up was a lot less pleasurable than going to sleep.

Still, the brand didn't hurt at all, though that didn't really surprise him. It hadn't hurt when the alien had done it either, at least not after the heat had faded. After all, a brand seared the nerve endings effectively and killed all feeling. It had certainly hurt at first when the molten metal had been pressed to his back, though.

That was something Clark was trying desperately to forget. Lex had at least made sure that the room was devoid of the smell of burning flesh, because Clark was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to handle that.

It had been nearly five years, and suddenly one little memory had the power to send him over the edge. Clark didn't like to admit to that, and it killed him that his only weakness wasn't Kryptonite, but that didn't stop it from being fact.

He knew both Chloe and Lex knew that, and he was thankful that they really didn't say anything about it. Clark didn't want to talk about what had happened—it had been the one part of his experience that he hadn't relayed to either Lex or Chloe.

"How are you feeling?"

"Drugged," he replied truthfully. "Very, very drugged."

He could see Chloe's smile even when the world was spinning. He absolutely loved it. "Lex had to go to a meeting, and it would have looked pretty suspicious if he wasn't there."

Clark nodded and immediately regretted it when the world began to spin. He decided on a verbal response instead. "Alright."

"I wish he hadn't done it, you know," Chloe told him after a few moments of silence.

"Done what?"

"The brand."

"Oh." Clark really didn't know what to say, because he wasn't sure why exactly. "It will protect me."

"But I-I don't know, Clark. I just felt like it reduced you even further."

"My pride's taken lots of hits over the years, Chlo. I've done lots of things to survive."

She nodded and ran a hand through her limp hair, which she had obviously not fixed up yet that day. "I know. It's just that I thought someone like Lex Luthor could find a better way to help you."

"He's limited by the regime, just as I am, Chloe. There's things he can't do."

"He's Lex Luthor. He always found a way to do them before."

"Before it was easier," Clark pointed out with a sigh. "Before there was a constitution and liberty and justice for all. Now there's an alien regime, a rachla, and a council. Even Lex can't move mountains."

"I know," she replied, biting her lip, "but...,"

"Look, Chlo, I know you don't trust him, but I do. He's had so many opportunities to kill me over the years, but he never has. He stopped me from being killed. If he hadn't found me in that slave market..."

She sighed and brushed some hair back from his forehead. "I know that, I really do. It's just—I don't know." She bit her lip again, and Clark thought she looked very much like she was trying to convince herself to trust Lex.

-------------------------------------

"Morning," Clark greeted Lex as he slipped into his office. Lex was apparently very enthralled with his paper work, for it took him a moment to look up at Clark.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with a small smile.

"Appreciative of the use of painkillers and thankful that you decided to use them, unlike our friendly alien conquerors."

Lex laughed a little and set his papers down. "I'd imagine so. Anyway, I thought that you'd like to know that your name's on the list of those dead." He tossed Clark a newspaper as he leaned back in his chair.

Clark quickly scanned the list of names, settling his eyes on the "K's". Sure enough, his name was there. "Think it will be enough to dissuade Lana?"

"I'm not sure," Lex replied. "I used a double, but other than the dark hair and build he clearly wasn't you. Still, it should satisfy the aliens. The only way she'll be able to tell anything is if she actually looked at the body before it was burned."

Clark nodded. "She might have, you know."

Lex twiddled a pen between his fingers, looking at it with a careless fascination. Clark knew that to mean that he was actually thinking hard about something else. "I'm going to go to the capitol today and see what's going on. I won't have the details until I do."

"Yeah, ok," Clark agreed faintly.

"I'm going to take Chloe with me." This time Clark could see him actually looking up, gauging his reaction.

"Why?" he asked, not sure quite how he felt about that. After what he'd seen, well, he just didn't know if he wanted Chloe to see it. And if she saw how they received brands, he wasn't sure he could handle that either.

Lex seemed to sense his hesitance. "She's a grown woman, Clark. You can't protect her anymore, not from everything, anyway."

He sighed and sank into the chair before Lex's desk. "I know," he muttered, "but there's something in me that wants to try. Besides, the fact that I'm twenty-two hasn't stopped you from watching my every move."

Lex noted his small smile that accompanied the words. "But I let you make your mistakes, even though I knew they'd get you hurt. I could have just said that I wasn't letting you run off after some lost cause, but you would have resented that immensely, and nothing short of putting you under lock and key would have stopped you. It was easier to let you learn yourself, but to make sure you didn't get killed."

"Are you saying that I've got to let her learn?"

"I'm saying if you don't, she'll resent it. Wouldn't you have resented me? Besides, I don't think you can stop Chloe anyway, at least not when she's determined. Besides, I think she's got as much control over you as you have over her."

"She's not an easy woman to say 'no' to," Clark replied with a sheepish look and a shrug.

"I'd imagine not," Lex said with a small smirk, his eyes dancing with implied references. "Anyway," he started again, all playfulness dieing down, "I'm going to take her with me this afternoon. You stay in the mansion and out of sight."

"Fine." Clark agreed, although the agreement felt strange on his tongue. Agreement to stay out of the action always had felt strange to him.

Just judging by Lex's smile, Clark knew Lex was aware of that. "Would you go get Chloe for me?" Lex asked, scooting back up to his desk and resuming looking over his paper work.

"Yeah," Clark agreed, getting up from the chair and heading for the door. His last glance before he shut the door was of Lex's wrinkled brow as he read something over.

--------------------------------

"And exactly why are you taking me and not Clark?" Chloe asked as soon as Lex presented the idea of going with him to her. Clark had to smile; trust Chloe to make her first words a question of skepticism.

"Because Clark's dead."

Chloe looked a little shocked before she realized that he was only talking as far as in the eyes of the world. "Then he could wear a disguise," she pointed out.

"And that will happen...eventually. But thanks to your brilliant escapades he's got a sling on his arm and that makes him far too easy to connect to the kid who was being chased down the street." Clark had to wince a little at the disapproval in Lex's voice. "Remind me why you did something that stupid again?" Lex asked, glancing over to where Clark was leaning against the wall.

"Um," he muttered with a small swallow. "Well..."

"That's what I thought," Lex replied with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, if you're going to pretend to be a debutante then you're going to need some information."

Clark could basically see the gears turning in Chloe's head. He could see her turning over the decisions, the pro's and con's.

"Alright," she agreed finally.

Lex smiled a little at her skepticism and glanced at Clark. "We're leaving, then," he said to her. "Go change."

"Casual, fancy, or in between?" she asked seriously.

"Professional but still contemporary," Lex replied without missing a beat.

"I'll see you in ten minutes," she promised before heading out of the room. Clark watched her go and was slightly surprised to see spring in her step. Perhaps, for all of her misgivings she'd wanted to get out of the house after all.

-------------------------------------

Chloe and Lex had left a few minutes later. Clark had to admit that he'd found it funny how much she glared at Lex. "She's just protective of you," Lex had told him when Chloe had gone to get her coat and Clark had breeched the subject to him.

He hadn't understood exactly what that had to do with anything, but Lex had patiently explained that she wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt Clark in anyway. While he'd still thought it was a little off-base, he'd been flattered that she cared that much.

Once they'd gone, he'd decided to go watch some TV in his room. His ankle was still a little sore from falling on it in the ally, and his arm certainly still hurt, so he wanted to lie down for a while.

He wasn't even sure why he watched the News. After all, it was just an extent of the alien's yellow press and half of it was only propaganda and jingoism against the rebels. What he was watching was no different.

The News was covering the slaughter of all high-level political prisoners. Clark shuddered as he saw some of the pictures and couldn't help but think that he could easily have been one of those bodies.

When he'd become a freedom fighter he'd thought he was prepared to die, but now he wasn't so sure. He had a lot to live for, and he really wasn't sure he was ready to give that up. But, being himself, he couldn't simply lie down and take things. It was a Catch-22, really; he didn't want to die, but he wasn't willing to accept things the way they were.

For the first time in a long time he wished he could go and talk to Jor-el in the caves. The last time he'd done that was when he was seeking help to stop the incoming meteor shower. Ironically, he'd stopped the meteor shower, but not the invasion.

Jor-el had been too right when he'd said you couldn't stop what was already in motion. And when the crystal had been stained with human blood the aliens had picked up its signal, had traced them, and had come to earth. He might have saved the earth from being "seared by a fire from the heavens", but he hadn't saved it from alien conquering.

Later he wasn't sure exactly how he'd heard the sound in the hall. By all rights whoever it was should have easily been able to sneak up on him. Maybe it had been all those months in a bunker, being tense with anticipation and always being alert. He didn't know, but he thanked whatever it was.

It certainly saved his life.

As soon as he heard the soft crunch of footsteps on Lex's very expensive hall carpet, he climbed out of bed. At first he was at a complete loss of what to do, but then he spotted a vase of flowers on the window sill. He wasn't sure how they'd gotten there, but at the moment that wasn't his main worry.

He closed his hand around the vase and was chilled to feel its glossy-smooth surface. Trying not to make any noise, he slipped behind the door. The footsteps continued down the hall, pausing briefly and Clark heard the squeak of door across the hall. He could feel his heart practically beating out of his chest.

The footsteps moved back into the hall, soon approaching the door where he was hidden. Clark waited silently, holding his breath, vase in hand. Mistakes couldn't be tolerated with this sort of thing.

He saw the intruder when he came through the door. Any hopes that he'd had that it was simply a servant snooping where they weren't supposed to vanished when he saw the intruder's attire. He was completely adorned in black clothing, clearly having snuck in. There was a small bag on his back, and Clark shuddered to think what was in it.

Still, the man didn't appear to be an alien. He was probably just a person paid off to work for them, Clark supposed—not that that made it any better. Waiting until the man had gone passed the door, Clark stepped forward and smashed the vase over his head.

Clark felt nauseous as the vase shattered into dozens of pieces over the man's head, many of them drawing blood. The sight of blood sickened Clark, and he supposed it always would.

He watched as the man crumpled to the floor. For a moment he only stood there dumbly and watched. Then his senses returned to him, and he tore out of the room. As soon as he turned into the hallway he glanced around to see if there were anymore intruders and was terribly relived to find none.

His mind screamed for an option. Lex was out, there was really no 911 to call, his parents were dead, and he didn't have a place to hide. He was at a complete loss for what to do until he remembered the gun in Lex's office desk.

Fear giving him wings, he ran towards Lex's office. He heard the door of his bedroom slam behind him and footsteps start on the floor. Why hadn't he thought to tie the guy up or something?

He shot through the door of the office and practically fell upon the desk in his desperation to get the gun out of the drawer. It was lucky that he'd scanned Lex's desk enough times back in Smallville to know his patterns of where he kept his artillery, and it was even luckier that he'd scanned this desk just as a precaution.

As he yanked open the bottom right drawer he felt something shoot through his body. At first he didn't know what it was, only knew that it was like electricity. And then he realized that was because it was electricity. The man chasing him had a stun gun.

He could feel his grip on the hard wood of the desk begin to slip. The carpet felt remarkably soft as he did a face plant against it. Hands turning him over were the last things he felt before he blacked out.

---------------------------------


	21. Chapter 21

"Who are you?" were the first words that Clark heard as he woke up. The first thing he felt was the burn of too-tight ropes against his wrists. If his captor seriously thought he was coherent enough to talk already he was insane.

He swallowed down the saliva that had pooled in his throat and shook his head a little to clear the cobwebs. When he finally worked up the strength to open his eyes he saw that he was still in Lex's office.

"I asked who you are," his captor repeated, his eyes merciless.

"What do you want?" Clark muttered, his grasp on reality just beginning to return.

He reflected that it felt very much like it had when he'd woken up on Sunday mornings and had just laid in his bed for a while. The difference was that his Sunday morning activities had, of course, been more relaxing than being tied to a chair in Lex's office.

"Right now? To know your name."

"How's it feel to want?" he whispered venomously, anticipating the slap that landed on his mouth. His head spun a little when he tasted blood in his mouth, his tooth having gone through his lip.

"Just tell me your name, kid," his attacker ordered tiredly.

"Jerome," Clark replied, not entirely lying. Jerome was, after all, his name. It just wasn't the one the man was looking for. "What do you want with me?"

"I'm not doing this for myself," the man told him leisurely, taking a cigarette out of his back pocket and lighting it. As the smoke began to lazily curl up into the air he added, "I'm paid to look for a kid who supposedly escaped the massacre the other night."

"I'm not that kid," Clark quickly lied. "Only the highest security prisoners were killed."

"You're not that kid?" he asked, a smile curving on his lips. "Because you fit the description to a tee. In fact, I think you're lying by telling me you're not Clark Kent."

"I'm not a high security prisoner; look at the brand on my back. You've obviously got the wrong guy."

The man looked at him through narrowed eyes, but took his cigarette out of his mouth and put it between his thumb and middle finger as he strolled around behind Clark. Clark's breathing quickened when he heard the sound of a knife being snapped open. A moment later he heard the distinctive rip of cloth as a knife sliced through it.

"Would you look at that," Clark heard the man muse, his tone slightly amused. "You don't have the right brand."

"So could you possibly untie me now?" Clark asked, wrinkling his nose as the scent of the cigarette smoke reached his nostrils.

The man only laughed. "No, because I still want to know all about you. My instructions were that, if I couldn't find Clark Kent, then I was to find something that Luthor would pay—whether it be information or money, I don't know—ransom for."

"I'm just a servant," Clark lied quickly, watching the man walk back in front of him where he settled on the edge of the desk casually, his eyes perusing over Clark.

'Yeah? Does Mr. Luthor always give his servants private bedrooms with TV sets?"

His smirk told Clark that he already knew the answer, whether Clark gave it or not. "I am a servant, just of a...different kind."

"A whore then?" he asked, taking a puff of his cigarette.

Trying not to be too conspicuous, Clark began to work at the bindings of his wrists. "Yes," he answered, trying to look convincing.

The man nodded, his lower lip sticking out slightly as he seemed to be thinking. "Well, you're certainly pretty enough. But the one flaw to that facade is that, if everything you've said is true, then Lex Luthor's whore died in the massacre. Did he get a replacement that quickly? Especially one that looks just like his former one?"

"I don't know what the one before me looked like," Clark tried to protest, his hope rising as he felt the bindings loosen a little, despite the pain it was causing in his shoulder to pull on them. He wondered why this guy had even bothered to take his sling off.

"Here, let me give you a picture," the man suggested with a soft chuckle as he put his cigarette out against Lex's desk, creating a burn mark. Lex wasn't going to be real happy, Clark thought to himself; he was pretty fond of his furniture.

The man took a photo out of his back pocket and held it in front of Clark's face. Clark had to inwardly groan a little as he realized it was a photo from the second night that a search party had invaded the mansion. "Looks a little like you, huh?" the man asked, his tone deceptively friendly.

"Guess Mr. Luthor has a certain type," Clark answered him with a shrug. The ropes holding his wrists were almost loose enough to slip through, and for once Clark thought fortune was on his side. (He was praying it was, anyway.)

"Yeah, and he was able to find a guy who looked exactly like the one in this bed in under forty-eight hours?" A soft grin lit up his features as he leaned down close to Clark's face and muttered, his tone almost like a lover's, "Why don't you tell me what you're really doing here, Clark."

Clark felt his hands slip through the restraints. Freedom had seldom felt so good. "Because I'd rather not get killed, thanks," he replied as he stood up.

The man's face contorted in disbelief, and that shock gave Clark enough time to go for the gun in the drawer. He hurriedly whipped it out and pointed it at the man, who instantly stopped his attempts to go for the stun gun in the chair across the room.

"Who sent you?" Clark demanded, his eyes never leaving the man's face, just as the gun never left its point over his heart. The strain it was causing on Clark's shoulder hurt, though, and Clark was using every bit of grit and determination he possessed just to keep the gun at shoulder height.

"I-I don't know," the man replied, his face flushed. Clark could see the fear radiating off him, all traces of his overconfident persona completely gone.

"WHO SENT YOU!" Clark yelled, the gun shaking as his hands began to. He'd taken human life only a very few times before, but it was never something he wanted to do. Right now he wasn't even sure he could.

"Lana, Lana Lang," he choked out, his eyes never leaving the gun. "She was sure Luthor saved you."

"And she'd be right," Clark replied bitterly, but the words tasted terrible in his mouth. Lana had betrayed him, yes, but now she was going to the extent of sending people after him. She'd even tried to get him killed in a mass murder. All of that was still hard to believe.

Clark had always had good reflexes, with or without his powers. He never thanked (and cursed) that more than at that moment as the man on the floor jumped to his feet and made a move at him.

As if in slow motion, Clark felt the gun in his hand go off. It didn't feel like him, though. It didn't even seem like he was holding the gun anymore. He felt the backfire of it, and he saw the man crumple in front of him, a horrified and pained expression on his feet. What really put it all in perspective for him, though, was when the man fell to his back and a red stain began to spread on the rug.

He'd killed him.

Clark had killed him.

There was a man dead on the floor because of him.

The gun slowly fell from his hands to the floor with a clatter. A moment latter Clark felt his legs turn to jelly as he sank back into the chair behind him. He couldn't stay there, however, because that was the chair he'd just been tied to, and he didn't want to relive that.

Practically in shock, he sank down to the carpeted floor beneath him, feeling very, very sick. All of this had been his fault, he decided. If he'd only never come to earth, the aliens never would have invaded. Everything could have been avoided altogether.

It had been his fault.

He gave up the contents of his stomach as the world began to spin. That only served to make things worse, as it joined the already nauseating smell of blood and death. Everything was so wrong in Clark's world at the moment. Nothing was going right.

"Lex!" he heard a girl's voice shriek, but he wasn't in the state of mind to recognize it. "There's-oh, my gosh-in your office. CLARK!"

The yells filled his ears, but it wasn't until Chloe's hands cupped his face that he registered who they were from. "Clark, Clark, are you alright?" she demanded breathlessly. "Oh, my gosh, Clark, what happened?" He could feel Chloe trying to grab his face so that he'd look at her, but even without his strength she couldn't force him.

He'd never heard Chloe sound so worried, and it frightened him. He didn't like it when Chloe was scared. "I'm alright," he muttered, forcing himself to stay strong. "But I...I killed a man," he told her seriously, glancing over at the body.

In his peripheral vision he saw Lex enter the room. "Shit," was the only explicative that Clark heard from him before Lex too was on his knees next to Clark. He was stronger than Chloe, and was able to maneuver Clark so that he was looking at him. "I want you to look at me."

Clark did, because his mind wanted to stop functioning and thinking for itself, at least for the moment. "Good," Lex said approvingly. "Get me a wash cloth," he told Chloe, before looking back at Clark. "Alright, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened."

"He's not ready for that yet!" Chloe snapped in the background.

"He's stronger than you think, Chloe," Lex argued, "and I need to know what happened in case there's anyone else around." He turned back to Clark and gently brought both hands to his face, keeping Clark's gaze clearly on him. "What. Happened?" he repeated slowly.

Clark could feel himself begin to focus and the shock begin to wear off. It had never been like this in Chicago. The only time it had been like this was the first time. The first time he'd killed someone he'd gotten very distant, stared desperately at the body, and hadn't heard anything. Pete had been the one who'd been able to snap him out of it that time.

It was apparently Lex's turn.

"I-Lana sent him after me. He said she'd wanted to see if you'd saved me—if you'd faked my death," he replied faintly.

Chloe returned with the cold cloth and gently began to wash of Clark's face. Lex let go of Clark and moved out of the way to let her, apparently convinced Clark wasn't in any immediate danger.

"Is he alright?" Clark heard Chloe ask.

"I'm-I'm fine, Chlo," he answered himself. "I'm sorry I scared you."

He could feel his complete consciousness returning and the shock beginning to wear off. It was a welcome relief. "Alright," Lex said again, his relief obvious. "Then get up and follow me. There is no way I'm ever leaving you again in a room that's not hidden."

Clark was a little hesitant to follow, but Lex took him by his upper arms and gently forced eye contact again, although he didn't need to use physical force this time. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Clark replied truthfully.

"Alright," he said with a soft nod. "Then trust me to make this better for you."

With a soft nod, Clark let himself be led from the room. All he really wanted was to forget the horrors of the recent few days. If Lex and Chloe could help with that, he was certainly game.

---------------------------

If you'd asked Clark where Lex had taken him after he'd gotten him out of the office, he couldn't have told you. If you'd asked him how to get there you'd have gotten the same answer. Though he'd regained a fairly good hold on himself, he still wasn't functioning like he should have.

And it was easier just to trust Lex.

His memory really began recording things as more than just a blur when they entered the room. Clark supposed that it registered in his mind because it was so awful. Well, not awful, per say, but not a nice place either.

The room had absolutely no windows, and its only furnishings were a bed. "There's a bathroom there," Lex told him, pointing to a small door in the wall.

Clark felt sick. Lex could apparently tell, because he quickly maneuvered Clark to bed and pulled the covers over him. Clark didn't protest when Lex filled a syringe with a sedative and told him he was going to sedate him because he and Chloe had to get to the bottom of what had happened.

Clark had only nodded numbly, thankful for the temporary reprieve from reality. It hadn't taken long for Lex to insert the needle into his neck, and in what seemed like only seconds later Clark was drifting off.

As he began to fall asleep he noticed that with silence there were no screams, no questions, and no gunshots. Silence was nice.

--------------------------------

The stroking of his hair was what Clark woke up to. It wasn't harsh or pulling, nor was it a command to wake up. No, it was just a nice gentle caress and if nothing else it made Clark feel loved.

"Hey, Chloe," he muttered. He didn't even need to open his eyes to tell who was touching him like that.

The petting momentarily stopped, so Clark leaned into the gentle touch. There was a soft chuckle and it began again. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Lex doesn't pet me," he said with a weak laugh.

She laughed as well. "I should hope not." Her voice dropped to the utmost seriousness as she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he answered truthfully. He didn't feel so panicked anymore, and he knew that was definitely an improvement. "How long was I out?"

"You were sedated for about twenty-four hours."

Twenty-four hours, he thought to himself. That was a pretty long time. "Where's Lex?"

"Out trying to kill someone," she replied darkly. "I've never seen him so made. I think this was the worst thing Lana could have done."

"Did you guys find out anything at the capitol?"

The hand in his hair briefly stalled before resuming its motion. "We found out that Lana's sleeping with one of the members of the council."

"Big surprise," Clark muttered, still really liking the feel of that touch. He wondered if it was possible to just stay in bed and be_ petted_ for the rest of his life.

"Yeah, well, not really," she pointed out. "Still, it is pretty effective. She's got an amazing amount of influence. I mean, she got Victoria Hardwick killed, she passed a decree ordering the murder of everyone of a certain criminal status—she's even gotten searches of Lex's mansion twice."

"So she's got connections," he said with a shrug, finally sitting up. "You think she can beat Lex?"

"Ultimately? No. He's been raised to do this his whole life. Lex knows how to fight dirty. Do I think she'll give him a run for his money? Yes, I do. But we both know that Lex thrives when something's on the line."

"I'm sure my life is a wonderful incentive," he replied sarcastically. With a sigh he asked, "When is Lex getting back?"

"That's a good question." Clark sat against the headboard as she checked her watch. When her face became slightly concerned he felt worry creep into the pit of his stomach. Had Lex done something stupid?

"He should have been back an hour ago."

"That's not like Lex," Clark pointed out. Lex was prompt and always on top of things. If he was late, there was a reason.

"It's not," she agreed. Her face became contemplative for a moment before she stood up. "I'll be right back," she promised.

He nodded and watched her leave. His mind was absolutely reeling. Things were adding up and, yet, they weren't. Clark understood _why_ Lana was doing what she was doing, but he wasn't clear on just _what_ she was doing. She was trying to kill anyone who knew anything, that was for sure. But her eventual goal was completely unclear.

She was after a good place in the community, that was for sure. But did she actually plan to conform long-term? Clark had a hard time believing that, because Lana was not a follower. But it didn't seem likely that she'd want to rule either, because she wasn't that much of a leader.

His thoughts were interrupted by Chloe re-entering the room. When he saw her face he immediately knew that something was catastrophically wrong. She was pale as a ghost and her hands were shaking, but it was the look in her eyes that really scared him.

He was reminded of the time in Smallville that the young boy Garrett had been forced to watch his brother Vince die. The shock and horror on Chloe's face was much the same. It was a look that Clark had never wanted to see again.

"Lex has officially been detained by the government," she whispered. "On accounts of harboring a spy."

Clark could feel his heart drop to his feet. Detained by the government for questioning was tantamount to an execution notice. Lex was basically condemned for death.

"When's the trial?" he asked, his mouth unbelievably dry.

He knew he had to keep a calm head. In this case Chloe, he, and Lex's lives probably all depended on it. Yet, he was finding it increasingly hard as he ran over the statistics of their chances for success in his head.

And failure was not an option.

He hauled himself out of bed and to the door. Chloe didn't make an attempt to stop him, but simply went with him. Clark wasted no time in going through the nearest door to find TV.

"Oh my gosh," he whispered.

"Breaking news:" the bottom of the screen read. "Lex Luthor, prominent businessman and all around figure of the new world, has just been arrested for harboring a spy. Details of the arrest are not readily known, although the spy is now believed to be dead. Mr. Luthor will be brought to trial tomorrow at the capitol."

Footage of Lex being hauled down a hallway by a bunch of aliens was being played over and over. The camera continued and the view panned out to show a large door, which they shoved Lex through.

"They're holding him at the capitol," Clark announced suddenly.

"There's nothing that you can do, Clark," Chloe said immediately.

Clark turned to her, slightly angry. "Do you expect me to watch him die?"

"It's what he'd rather have you do as opposed to going in there, getting caught, and getting both of you killed," she retorted seriously, the lines of her face very set with righteous determination. Usually Clark would have backed down. Today was not 'usually'.

"You know I'm right, Clark," she added as a pleading quality jumped into her eyes.

"These last few weeks have been great," Clark told her abruptly. "I haven't had to plan for anyone, haven't had to really protect anyone—someone took care of me for a change. But I'm me, Chloe. I'm different, and it couldn't last. And if you think I'm going to let my best friend get killed because of _me_, you don't know me as well as you thought."

She groaned and ran a hand through her hair, pulling at it slightly. "He wouldn't want you to do this."

"His wishes are irrelevant, because if I don't come up with something soon he's going to be dead."

"He wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger."

"I don't care."

It was as pure and simple as Clark could make it, and it described his whole attitude—because he didn't care. He wasn't going to let someone die. He'd already lost Pete and Lois; Lex wasn't going to be third on that list.

"He had something to give you, you know," she said faintly, dropping her hand to the back of her neck where she began to knead, obviously stressed out.

"What?" That really didn't make a lot of sense to him. What was she talking about?

"He told me that if something happened to him then I was to show you this," she said as means of explanation before she simply walked out of the room.

Clark, of course, followed, wondering what the heck Lex had done this time. He hadn't expected Chloe to know exactly where she was going. He hadn't expected the determined set of her shoulders, either, though it was obviously coupled with heavy resignation.

A lab_ really_ wasn't what he'd expected. Chloe seemed to know exactly what to do, though, as she immediately went over to a cabinet and forced it open. From inside she withdrew a small vial of liquid.

"What's that?" he asked softly, eyeing the liquid with trepidation.

"That," she announced tiredly, "is the antidote to whatever took away your powers."

Clark's jaw fell open. Lex had possessed the antidote the entire time? And he hadn't given it to Clark? And Chloe had known about it!

"He had it the entire time?"

A weary shake of her head confirmed it. "Yes."

"And why the hell didn't he give it to me!" he roared, anger blazing through him. Lex didn't have a right to play God with him like that.

"Because he thought—and probably rightly so—that if you had your powers you'd run off and try to save the world again."

"I gave him my word that I wouldn't," Clark whispered.

"Is your word stronger than you conscience when you see people hurting?" she asked seriously.

Clark could see it in her eyes: She'd agreed with Lex's decision to withhold the antidote from him. She hadn't wanted him to get his powers back either.

"Probably not," he admitted truthfully.

"He just didn't want to make it harder on you. He didn't want to see you go through that kind of pain," she explained. Then, putting one hand on her hip and the other to her forehead in a stressful gesture, she sighed. "And neither did I. It was possibly the one thing that we ever fully agreed on."

Clark didn't have time to feel annoyed or betrayed at the moment. He knew what was at stake, and he figured that if he saved LEx he could rail on him later.

"Let me see it," he ordered quickly.

She pointed to a chair in the corner. "Sit down and I'll inject it for you."

He nodded and hurried over to the chair, plopping down. He watched her as she went around the room, finally locating a needle and withdrawing the liquid from the vial. When she was ready she grabbed some antiseptic and came over to Clark.

"Are you sure you want this?" she asked, and he could have sworn he saw sympathy in her eyes.

Looking straight at her, he decisively replied, "Yes."

"All right," she said softly as she began to swab his arm. "Fine."

Clark watched it almost in slow motion as the needle was lowered towards his arm. He watched as Chloe poked around for a vein, finally finding one. And he also watched as the needle slid in and the serum was deployed.

After that sight was gone and his feeling took over.

It was what Clark imagined the most extreme high would feel like. He could literally feel the power spreading back into his limbs. Though he was regaining his powers, it was nothing like the time he'd regained them from Eric Marsh. That had been quick.

This was not.

The power seeped through every bit of him, but the best part was that he could feel his brand healing. When he finally came to he found he was lying on the floor, an extremely anxious Chloe kneeling beside him.

"Are you alright?" she asked breathlessly.

Clark smiled humorlessly and picked up a small metal instrument from beside him. (He assumed he'd hit it when he fell.) With the effort a grown man uses to crush an ant, Clark crumpled the instrument up.

"Does that answer your question?" he asked, his smile still present.

"Damn," she whispered, looking at the mangled piece of metal with slight awe. "Yeah, I guess it does. So, do you have a plan?"

Clark stood up off the floor and walked towards the lab door. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I do."

-------------------------------------------

Clark had picked up a few things from hanging around Lex, and going incognito was apparently one of them.

_Everything is broken   
Everything is broken  
Everything is breaking down, breaking down_

Clark had spent the past half-hour changing his appearance in Lex's bathroom. As he surveyed himself in the mirror, he thought Lex would have been proud.

_Everything is bleeding  
Everything is bleeding  
Everything is breaking down, breaking down_

His hair was now a lighter shade of brown, highlights having been added. Contacts had been used to make his eyes brown as well. A bit of makeup had darkened his skin from its usual golden color to something much more middle-eastern, or even Spanish.

_A pledge allegiance to a country without borders, without politicians   
Watching for my sky to get torn apart  
We are broken, we are bitter  
We're the problem, we're the politicians  
Watching for our sky to get torn apart  
C'mon and break me_

After a little rummaging around, he'd managed to find an outfit that the guards at the capitol wore. He pulled one on, and though it was a little small, Clark was sure he'd pass without a problem. Besides, passing as a guard let him carry a hand gun.

_Entropy and Aching   
Where have we been aiming?  
Everything is fading out, fading out  
We are the faded, splitted, and sedated_

"What do you think?" he asked Chloe as he came out of the bathroom to stand before her.

She only shook her head sadly. "I think that I can't believe you're doing this."

"I'll be fine, Chlo. And if I'm not, well, I'm pretty much marked for death right now anyhow."

_Everything is fading out, fading out_

"We could run," she pointed out.

"But I've never been the kind to back down from a challenge."

She sighed and came forward to wrap her arms around him. "No, I guess not. And if you were you wouldn't be the man I love," she whispered.

"I love you too, Chloe, more than you're ever going to know."

_I pledge allegiance to a country without borders, without politicians   
Watching for my sky to get torn apart  
We are broken, we are bitter  
We're the problem, we're the politicians  
Watching for our sky to get torn apart  
C'mon and break me  
C'mon and break me_

He leaned down and caught her lips in a deep kiss. She kissed back actively, and Clark tried not to think of how this could be the last time he felt those lips.

"I love you," he whispered once more before pulling away.

_A pledge allegiance to a country without borders, without politicians,  
politicians, politicians._

He forced himself not to look back as he walked away from her down the hall and towards the back door of the mansion. He thought that if she was the last thing he saw before going to do something that could quite possibly get him killed, well, at least he'd picked something definitely worthwhile and something that he loved with all his heart.

_I am broken, I am bitter  
I'm the problem, I'm the politician  
Watching for my sky to get torn apart  
C'mon and break me  
C'mon and break me_


	22. Chapter 22

Clark considered it lucky that he'd learned the basics of the alien's language when the war had first started. He may not have been fluent, but he would pass. That was definitely going to be a helpful skill when it came to breaking into the capitol.

There were hordes of guards around the capitol, and while that worried Clark, it did help him to blend in. Still, he couldn't get in without a card to scan. But, thankfully, his newly regained powers made that problem almost obsolete.

It was ridiculously easy to go around to the back of the building and to grab a guard from behind, bopping him over the head before he'd even really known what happened. Clark then took a piece of rope out of his pocket and bound him, leaving him in a crevice between buildings.

After that, he went back to the front gate and, using the card he'd stolen from the guard, easily let himself in. The yard was crowded with guards as well, and Clark wondered if everyone had congregated at this building for Lex's trial. After all, it would be the most important trial ever in the alien regime. Lex was that influential.

It also meant getting Lex out would be that much harder.

He slipped inside the actual building of the capitol and was quite surprised when no one even spared him a second look. He was very careful to make his step and gait match the stiff one of the aliens. Maybe he was a better actor than he'd thought.

As he approached the area he knew to be the prisons, he scanned through the walls, easily finding Lex. There were three guards outside his cell, and Clark knew that he could never take down three at once.

A diversion would be necessary.

Thankfully, he'd mastered that tactic years ago with his heat vision.

He walked into the prison area, once again using his card to get passed the scanners. Before he went down the hall to Lex's cell he'd have had to turn a corner, so he carefully crouched down behind the wall and waited.

Nothing happened to dissuade him, so he softly peeked around the corner and concentrated on the far wall. It burst into flames under his stare, much like the walls of the fire station had years ago when he'd broken out of that.

The gasps and yells of the aliens could be heard as they all turned to look at the wall in surprise. Clark watched, using his x-ray vision to see through the wall, as they all turned their backs on the area where he was hidden.

He took his opportunity.

Using his speed, he ran up behind them, hitting each on the head. He watched as they immediately crumpled to the floor. Clark grinned; apparently invincibility was helpful.

That having been done, he put the fire out with his hands. The aliens remained on the ground as if dead, and Clark couldn't help but wish they really were, while at the same time not being able to kill them himself.

As soon as they were down, he quickly scanned them for all mechanical equipment—anything they could use to call for help—and removed it all. Then he headed to the door of the cell that he knew to be Lex's and, taking the keys that he'd also found in the belt of one of the guards, began to unlock it.

He almost had to laugh when he saw Lex lying on a bed in the middle of a dingy cell. Only a small wooden table and a chair, as well as the bed, adorned the room. Lex glanced at him, but Clark assumed he only saw the outfit and didn't really look at his face, as he didn't pay him any heed.

"It's not exactly your mansion, but at least you've got a window," Clark said as means of greeting.

Lex's gaze quickly snapped back on him. "How the hell did you get in here?"

Clark couldn't suppress his laugh at the look on Lex's face. Shock wasn't a common Luthor expression.

"I knocked out a guard, stole a scanner card, and walked through the door. Then I created a diversion and knocked out three more. Now get up so we can leave before they wake up."

Lex slowly stood up, still looking at Clark as though he weren't sure he was really there. "Are any of the guards my size?"

"One of them is fairly close, so you can wear his clothing," Clark suggested, knowing that was what Lex had been thinking.

"Perfect," Lex muttered, leaving his cell and helping Clark drag the men into it. Lex then began to quickly strip the smallest man, as well as himself, putting on the man's clothing. "It's a bit big, but I'll pass, I think," he said upon inspection of himself.

"It's just to get out of the capitol, anyway."

"How do you have your powers back?" Lex asked as he took the key and locked the door to the cell. Clark looked through the walls with his x-ray vision to insure that no one was coming.

"A friend was holding out on me," Clark replied accusingly.

Lex only smirked in return. "That friend knew what was best for you in this case."

"You didn't have any right to do that," Clark shot back reproachfully. The smug look Lex gave him was enough to almost make him want to stick Lex back in his cell. "You let me get hurt."

"I stopped you from giving yourself a death sentence," he corrected him seriously, giving him a look commonly given to a unruly toddler. "You wouldn't have been able to handle having your powers back and not doing something. And in case you don't remember, Lana knows your secret. They could have killed you. This was easier and safer."

He hated it when Lex was right and had a valid point. But he so desperately wanted to wipe the knowing look off Lex's face; the look that said he knew all too clearly that Clark understood. He really, really hated that look.

"Are we leaving or not?" he finally asked.

"I think it would be best if we did," Lex replied. How Lex could seem to remain on control when his life was on the line was completely beyond Clark, but, then again, he supposed that this was _Lex_, and Lex had never really majored in normal.

They both started to walk down the hallway, mirroring the walk of the aliens right down to the way their steps hit the floor. Their boots clicked on the cement floors as the level gently began to rise, finally ending in the door Clark had come in.

Lex opened it, not seeming at all like a man who had just been saved for near-certain death. But then again, Clark supposed that a guard shouldn't look relieved, and Lex was a master at appearances.

They walked by a few more guards as they exited the prison and moved into the nicer areas of the capitol. The richly furnished hallways with their fancy carpets and rare paintings hanging on the wall served for a startling contrast to the starkness of the prison.

"Comrades," a sharp voice called out from behind them in alien dialect. Clark froze, but Lex easily turned as if he faced his would-be executions every day.

"Comrade," he acknowledged in a perfect alien tongue. "How may I be of service to you?"

"Do you yet know who is to guard the chamber during the trial tomorrow?"

Clark swallowed as he watched the interaction. One slip, one mess up, and he and Lex could be dead. "I am unsure," Lex replied. "Perhaps the desk would know?"

The alien nodded curtly. "Perhaps. The Lang woman is pressing hard for a search for the spy. She is disbelieving of his death."

"Naturally," Lex replied with a nod. "I find it unlikely that he is dead as well."

"You do?" the alien returned, confusion creasing his brow line. Clark thought he very much resembled a troll.

"Certainly. Do you think someone as intelligent as Luthor would go through all of this trouble he's caused for himself to simply fail?"

Lex didn't just flirt with danger, Clark thought. No, he had to take it to dinner, bring it home, and have sex with it. And he was seriously beginning to think his friend was crazy—or just liked trying to raise Clark's blood pressure.

"Do you think he could defeat the regime?" the alien prompted, a look of slight mistrust coming into his eyes.

"Oh, certainly not," Lex answered as though he thought the question amusing. "The regime is supreme and unbeatable. Luthor simply wouldn't have allowed the man to die. There is still no doubt that he will be found. I am simply stating my reasons for not believing in the authenticity of his death."

Clark was seriously sure that Lex was trying very, very hard to kill him. Why couldn't he just escape without having to rub it in? Answer: because that wouldn't be like Lex, Clark thought with a mental sigh.

The alien visibly relaxed at Lex's words. "I am sure you are right. Anyhow, I must go inquire into who shall be guarding the trail."

Lex nodded curtly. "Good day, Comrade."

The man tipped his hat to Lex, as well as to Clark, before walking off down the hallway. Clark thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. And when Lex just kept walking like nothing had happened he was sure he was in the Twilight Zone.

They made it to the front door with no more interruptions, for which Clark was very happy. Once there, they easily scanned their cards and exited the building. Once they got outside, Clark saw that the front yard was still very packed, and Clark could feel the heat from the bodies.

He and Lex started off into the crowd, bumping into a few people, but other than that, going without interruptions. Clark had never been happier to see a gate in his life. Once they reached the gate, Lex lazily raised his card and scanned it calmly, like he wasn't an escaping prisoner—like he wasn't the highest level prisoner in the place. But then, that was Lex, Clark decided again. He never did anything on a small scale. No, if he was going to be a prisoner then he was going to be the most important and famous one.

It was remarkably easy to walk down the street and away from the capitol. Once they'd turned a corner and were out of sight, Clark immediately let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"Could you maybe, I don't know, not talk with the people who are trying to condemn you to death?"

"Oh, Clark," Lex said with a shark-like smile. "Where's the fun in that?"

-------------------------

"Clark!" Chloe screeched as soon as they entered the door of the mansion. "Oh my gosh, don't ever do that again!" she shouted angrily. "And you," she reprimanded Lex threateningly, "don't ever put him in that position again."

Lex looked at her seriously. "I didn't put him in any position. I told you that you were only to show him that serum if it put _his_ life in danger." The unspoken insinuation that it had been Chloe's fault hung in the air.

Clark hated it when people talked about him like he wasn't there. "I would have come after you with or without abilities. She probably saved my life, actually."

He saw the thankfulness at his statement in Chloe's eyes and the annoyance in Lex's. He wasn't exactly sure what Lex was annoyed at, but...

"You can't possibly be mad at me for not letting you die," he pointed out incredulously, running a hand through his dyed hair. He really wanted to go and wash the die out.

"I'm not mad that you didn't let me die," Lex told him. "I'm just mad that you put your life on the line to save me."

"You wouldn't have done that if it was me? In fact, you did do it for me. Just letting me stay here was a death sentence if anyone found out," Clark retorted seriously. Lex's logic was sometimes messed up like that, and it really annoyed him.

"That's different," he reproached Clark, his eyes blazing.

"How?" Clark asked. Lex couldn't possibly have really justified that in his own mind.

"You've got more to live for," he said, completely honestly, making eye contact with Clark.

"And you don't?" Clark asked softly.

Lex glanced over at Chloe. "You've got her." Chloe was watching the interaction with something akin to pity in her eyes.

"And if you died you don't think I'd be the teeniest bit sad? You've got just as much reason to stay alive as I do, Lex."

Lex rolled his eyes, all semblance of brutal honesty and willingness to spill his guts disappearing. "We need to talk," he said with a sigh, taking Clark's sleeve and pulling him towards the route to the upstairs bathroom.

Clark could only look back at Chloe who, as means of help, shrugged. And here he'd thought women were supposed to be better than guys at the emotional stuff.

--------------------------------

"What are we going to do now?" Clark asked Lex as they strolled into his study.

"That's a question I should ask you. After all, you were the one with the master plan," he retorted as he settled himself in his chair, still watching Clark carefully.

The slight sarcasm in his voice was not lost on Clark. "Could you at least be a little thankful that you're not dead?" he asked, anger accentuating his voice as he settled in the chair across from the desk.

Lex sighed, and Clark saw his face immediately soften. "It's not that I'm not thankful for what you did. I just think you were a fool to do it."

Clark rolled his eyes. "We need a plan now, and I suspect that you have one." Lex always had a plan, even if it had been made up as the events were playing out.

"Well, I obviously can't stay here and that means that, by association, neither can you."

It was a fair point and one that Clark knew he needed to heed. Still, it wasn't like they exactly had a multitude of places to go. Clark had spent years hiding out and he'd still been caught in the end. "Where should we go?"

"I've got a lab," Lex reveled, his eyes going dark.

"And somehow I think that when we get there we aren't just going to sit around and twiddle our thumbs," Clark responded with a raised eyebrow. Thoughts were already forming in his head regarding what he could do with a lab, especially one as good as Lex's undoubtedly would be.

"I think," Lex said slowly, as if savoring every word, "it's time to fight back."

"What happened to submitting to the regime so that you could retain some power? What happened to choosing your battles?"

Lex's eyes darkened a shade as he gave Clark a very serious look. Clark couldn't help but be reminded of the time Lex had gone after Paul Hayden when he'd tried to hurt Helen. It was a look he _definitely_ didn't want to be on the receiving end of.

"I did choose my battles," Lex replied quietly. "And now I'm choosing this one."

-----------------------------------------

Under the cover of darkness they'd slipped out of the mansion in a car reserved for the servants running errands to the market. Chloe doubled as the driver, as no one had really seen her enough to recognize her face. Clark had suggested that he drive, but Lex pointed out that the aliens he'd tossed into their cells might have been the observant kind that had looked at his face shape and not his eyes and hair and might have, therefore, recognized him.

Clark thought that was a long shot, especially considering he'd changed his hair color to blond before they'd left the mansion and had changed his eyes to a dark chocolate brown. Lex had also grabbed a wig and had put in contacts that changed his eyes green. Chloe had laughed at them both, but Clark had seen the concern in her eyes.

So she'd ended up driving, and he and Lex had hidden themselves in the compartment underneath the seats that Lex had specially designed. Unfortunately, there still wasn't that much room under the seats, so the compartment was rather small—and it was a four hour ride to the lab.

"You're lucky I'm not claustrophobic," Clark whispered, only half-jokingly. Lex really was lucky about that, because the space was tiny (About the size that the underside of the seats would be if the seats had been hollowed out.).

"I'd be even luckier if you had shorter legs. Will you get your knee out of my thigh!" he replied, aggravation clear, though it was obvious he wasn't angry at Clark.

"I told you that you should have had me drive. Chloe would have fit a lot better in here." He leaned back into the small pillows that they'd brought with them. Then, just for kicks, he used his x-ray vision to look up through the seats.

"What are you doing?" Lex asked after a moment.

"I'm x-raying up through the seat," he answered, only hesitating slightly. It had never been easy for him to admit to his powers, and old habits died hard.

"See anything interesting?" Lex inquired, shifting back against the wall of the compartment.

"No, I just wanted to see if it felt the same."

"Did it?"

"Yes." He wasn't sure if he liked the feeling of being able to see everything again. Sure, it came in handy, but sometimes...

"Did you ever think about what giving up your powers would entail? Or did you just hear the footsteps coming down into the bunker and panicked?"

"I'd thought about it for a while. I knew I wasn't going to let everyone die because of me. And if they'd found I was...unique, they would have."

He could remember that day so well, and it was memory that he sorely wished he was bereft of. The footsteps, the smells, the screams—he never wanted to hear any of it again, even in his dreams or memories.

"It was a good decision."

"I know you don't think I should have left in the first place," he acknowledged softly. "But it doesn't really matter now, does it? I mean, we're in the same situation despite what course we chose to get there."

"Except I have a lab that we can use to our benefit." The reproach in Lex's voice was obvious.

"And I've got abilities." It was a lame comeback, but Clark hated it when Lex got the best of him.

"Which you would have had anyway if you'd stayed and pretended to be loyal to the aliens."

Sometimes it was better to stay silent then to try to one-up Lex, because it seemed Lex had a nasty habit of usually winning when an argument was faulty. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself," he protested.

"You'd have found a way."

Clark wasn't so sure that he would have. He was a high-moraled person, and if he'd allowed others to die he wasn't sure he'd have been able to justify that. As it was he purposely didn't ask Lex who he'd let die. He knew that Lex probably had a trail of bodies, and that several of those bodies had Clark's name on them. Actually, not probably, _Clark knew they did_. It was easier not to ask.

The gentle rocking of the car as it skimmed over the ground, combined with the heat of the compartment began to make him drowsy. He might not really have been able to feel the heat like a normal person anymore, as in sweating, but he could still feel some of its effects; heat being one of those effects. Fairly soon these factors took their tolls, and Clark could feel himself dropping off.


	23. Chapter 23

A sharp jerk to the clothing over his shoulder woke Clark. "Hmm?" he muttered, not at all liking the wake-up call. Why couldn't Lex just let him _ease_ out of his sleep.

"Let's go. It will look suspicious if a vehicle—any vehicle, never mind that it's a servants car—hangs around here too long."

He might not have been able to see Lex, but he heard him fumbling with the latches on the tiny door beside him. A moment later light spilled into the darkness, and Clark was forced to squint. "Geesh, Lex."

"I'm not your mother, and I don't have time to baby you into waking up," Lex announced with a soft laugh. "Let's go."

Clark rolled out after Lex and ended up in the trunk. After a few seconds of waiting that popped open, and they were met with Chloe's smiling face. "Nice ride, boys?" she asked with an amused grin.

"Yeah, I love having someone kick me while he sleeps, not to mention having to put up with his blatant disregard of what it sounds like when someone snores in a confined space," Lex replied dryly, but his expression assured Clark he wasn't at all mad.

"You don't sleep with him every night," Chloe pointed out good-naturedly as she slid a hand around Clark's waist as soon as he climbed out of the trunk.

"What are you going to do with the car?" Clark asked Lex, letting the comments about his snoring go as he looked around and saw that they were in a fairly urban area.

"We're several miles from the lab, Clark. I assume you've taken the subway before?"

"Oh, naturally," he replied with a smirk. If only Lex knew how many times he'd hidden out on the Subway while waiting for information. No one thought much of people who rode the subway anymore. It had become common for people to simply ride it from beginning to end and back again, since rides on the subway were now free.

"I thought so," Lex replied. "Let's go."

They snuck out onto the dark sidewalk, attempting to remain as inconspicuous as possible. At the late hour that was tough, as there was nearly no one on the streets, and those who were there looked to be of decidedly shady character. A few glanced at Chloe with looks akin to a way a hungry dog eyes meat, but no one did anything.

"How far is it?" Clark whispered.

"A little further," Lex replied, his tone also hushed.

A noise from behind them startled them all into turning around. When they did, Clark and Lex immediately pushed Chloe behind them. Apparently a few those people of decidedly shady character had opted to follow them.

"Going somewhere?" the one closet to them asked with a sinister smile that exposed all of his rotten teeth.

"Yes, actually," Lex replied easily. "Have a nice night."

"Heh, I don't think so," the man objected with a laugh. Clark narrowed his eyes slightly as he x-rayed the man's clothing. He had just a knife and a gun, nothing incredibly elaborate, but still very effective when it needed to be. "How about you give us what cash you've got in your pockets, and we'll consider letting you live."

"Sorry, but we're broke," Lex replied icily.

"And out of luck as well," one of the other men shot in. With a quick scan, Clark was able to determine that there were about six men, all of them grubby and unkempt. They were just one of the many who, since the aliens had taken over, had been forced to resort to theft and robbery to stay alive day to day. And the aliens said their regime had made life better for most people...

The gleam of a knife was seen, even if only in the faded hazy light of the pitiful excuse for a street light. "You sure you don't have anything for us?" the man asked with a sinister grin.

Lex gave a low laugh, and Clark detected no fear in it. "I couldn't be more sure. I'd suggest that you put your knife away."

"Hoho, big man on campus, huh? _You_ think _I_ should put my knife away?" he asked with an ill-mannered laugh.

"I couldn't be more sure of it," Lex said softly.

The man's laughing manner suddenly dropped and he lunged forward at Lex with a knife. Before even Clark thought to move Lex reached out and blocked the blow then slammed his fist into the man's face. The knife clattered to the ground where Clark quickly grabbed it.

"Run!" yelled one of the thugs at the back of the group and, originally, Clark thought it was because of them and the fact that one of the men had been taken down. And then he heard the sirens.

"Oh shit," Lex muttered from next to him. "Run."

Clark didn't have to be told twice. Grabbing Chloe, he started to sprint down the sidewalk, finally ending up in a dark ally way. The sound of cars parking could be heard, and a moment later the garbled conversations of the aliens hit their ears.

"...Just a gang of muggers...

"...nothing to worry about..."

"...but after Luthor's escape..."

"...you can't be sure..."

The footsteps came along the sidewalk, and Clark pulled Chloe tight against them. With any luck they wouldn't be found, but he'd never been one to rely on luck.

"Dumpster," he whispered to Chloe as he caught sight of one a little further into the ally. She nodded against his chest and as silently as they could they crept towards it. Clark, using his strength, opened it quietly and slipped Chloe inside, following after her.

The voice entered the ally a moment later, but quickly left when they found nothing amiss. Clark thanked God for the fact that they hadn't searched thoroughly. The footsteps left the ally, and Clark breathed a sigh of relief. That apparently was a mistake as he choked on the air that smelled of pungent garbage.

The harsh grunt from outside the ally startled Clark. He felt Chloe tense against him as well. "Who are you?" a harsh alien voice demanded, his English sounding almost mechanic, showing that they didn't really speak the language.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

The voice was unmistakably Lex's, and Clark felt his heart drop. Lex was the one who was never supposed to get caught. Still, something told him to stay put and not go help his friend yet.

"I intend to find out," the voice replied harshly, and a sharp grunt led Clark to believe a punch had been delivered to Lex's gut, or something similar. Fear tingling in him, he used his vision to look outside the dumpster.

Lex was indeed on the ground, but while Clark was watching he saw Lex reach for the pocket of the coat he was wearing. In it, Clark saw, was a knife, and one that looked like a switchblade by the shape of it. Clark wasn't sure when Lex had gotten that, but he did know it was good that he was prepared.

The alien reached forward to hit Lex again, and Lex quickly withdrew the knife, shoving it into the alien's abdomen. A sharp cry from the alien followed as Lex pulled the knife out. Clark watched as the other alien, who had just seen his companion slayed, started forward at Lex.

The aliens may have been strong, but they were not invulnerable. That was something that Lex clearly knew inside and out. It also appeared that he intended to use that knowledge.

The alien made a move to grab Lex just as Lex neatly shoved passed his arm and drove the knife into him as well. He made a sound like his companion, but didn't fall. That seemed to prompt Lex to deliver a harsh kick to his back before he took the knife out of the alien and slit both of the creatures throats.

Clark observed, feeling slightly sick. He'd never gotten used to killing, nor would he ever. It simply wasn't in his wiring to do so. He would always feel queasy at the sight of death.

"You can come out," Clark heard Lex call.

"C'mon, Chlo," Clark whispered softly, opening the top of the dumpster. "Let's get to the lab before anything else happens."

She nodded against him and allowed him to lift her from the dumpster. Clark was acutely aware that they both smelled very much like garbage, and the smell made him gag a little, but not nearly as much as the sight of the two aliens, blood pooling under their supine bodies, as he and Chloe immerged from the ally.

"We need to go," Lex said quietly as he caught sight of Clark and Chloe. "Right now, preferably before more of them come."

Clark nodded. "Where's the lab?"

Lex's eyes hardened, knowing what Clark was suggesting. "No," he said softly and firmly. "We agreed."

They'd agreed in the car that Clark wouldn't use his speed, just in case something happened. If it wasn't necessary it shouldn't be used. Clark thought that should be easy enough, considering that he'd done it for years, but this tested that will. In fact, it tested it and broke it.

"We agreed that I wouldn't use it unless it was an emergency. This is."

Lex sighed and ran a hand over his head, frustration pouring from every pore of his body. "Go the length of this street, take a right, go into the abandoned building that you see there—the one with all the broken windows that looks as though it should be condemned. Once there I'll take over."

Clark gave him a curt nod as he picked Chloe up and went over to Lex. "Hold on," he instructed. He didn't need to tell Chloe what to do; she'd been privy to his powers before. Lex, however, had never experienced them.

He seemed to be alright with rolling with it, though, because he grabbed onto Clark and held on when Clark went into super-speed. As Clark watched the world whip by he found himself wondering just how his life had become so insane.

---------------------------

The building was just where Lex had said it would be, and Clark sped into it without a problem, depositing Chloe and Lex in the middle of the floor. Chloe swayed a little, and even Lex looked queasy. "No human should ever go that fast," he muttered, a hand to his head.

"I'm not human," Clark murmured, to himself, though he'd known perfectly well that Lex hadn't been talking about him. There had been a time when he'd wanted to be human. There were times he still did, but he'd long ago stopped hoping for the impossible. It didn't matter anyway, because in the last few days he'd proven that even without his powers he was very inhuman.

"You're better, Clark," Chloe whispered from beside him. "More humans should be like you."

Clark swallowed, a lump rising in his throat. And how utterly _stupid_ to still be feeling emotions like this. He should be long past emotion now.

"Follow me," Lex ordered softly, and Clark caught the gentle edge to his voice. He empathized with what Clark was thinking, even if he couldn't completely understand it.

Both Chloe and Clark fell into step behind him, following him down a rundown staircase and into the basement of the building. It wasn't exactly somewhere Clark would want to spend his time, but he supposed that it may be the safest for now.

The smell of mold and disuse dissipated as they move down the stairs and into the basement below. Clark thought it should have been the opposite but, strangely enough, it was not. He saw why a moment later.

A perfect lab: white, sterile, pristine, and all the other things a lab should be. Clark just hoped that it was safe as well.

"I had it built about a year back, though the progress was slow. I didn't want to raise attention, and it seemed to work. No one knows about this." Lex seemed proud of that fact, and Clark supposed he should be.

"What's down here?" Chloe asked slowly, sounding as if she were picking her words carefully.

"Everything we'll need." Lex's voice showed that he seemed to think that an adequate answer, as well as true.

"And what are we planning to do, exactly?" Clark asked. The lab was making him slightly nervous, though he knew it was irrational to be so. Labs might have been his fear since he was younger, but this was _Lex's lab_. Lex wasn't going to hurt him.

Clark knew Lex could see his nervousness, but he wasn't calling him on it. "We're going to finish what I started years ago."

"And that is?" Clark prompted, becoming slightly aggravated at Lex's evasiveness.

"I've...got a chemical," he revealed, seeming to savor his words, while choosing them carefully. "It's toxic to the aliens."

"Then why the hell haven't you used it!" Chloe shot in, holding her hands up in disbelief. "Are you insane?"

Lex looked straight at her, his eyes boring into her. "_All_ aliens."

That hit his point home. Clark felt an indescribable emotion wash over him, though if he'd been pressed for an answer he would have said something close to guilt. Once again, he'd managed to get earth in trouble. As he opened his mouth to speak, Lex cut him off.

"I know what you're going to say, but I won't use it," Lex stated firmly. "I was working on an antidote to it when I got arrested. But if I can develop that..." The rest of the sentence hung in the air, but its meaning couldn't have been more clear.

Earth would be liberated.

"What can we do to help?" Chloe asked, eagerness in her voice as well as on her face. Clark was suddenly and vividly reminded of a fifteen year old reporter for the Torch who had just come across a story about yet another meteor freak.

"_You_ can keep him out of my way," Lex said, giving Clark a small smile. Clark gave him a small one in return. He knew Lex didn't really think him a burden, but Lex knew all too clearly the emotions that he was feeling. Besides, Clark couldn't help anyway.

Chloe laughed softly. "Done," she said simply. "Have you got a place for us to stay?"

"There's a spare room with a bed in it. The rooms aren't made of lead, so just go out in the hall and you can find it, Clark."

Clark clearly understood the dismissal, and he nodded to Lex before taking Chloe's arm and gently leading her from the room. Guilt and remorse for the fact that he was the reason earth was still oppressed ran through him. Some days being him just wasn't easy.

Actually, most days it wasn't.

------------------------------------

The bed in the spare room was really, really large and it appeared to be the only bit of comfort that Lex had let into the lab. Yes, Clark had indeed done a full scan of the lab. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lex, but, well, sometimes he just had to _know_.

Chloe lay curled against him, asleep, her head nestled snuggly in the crook of his arm. Clark enjoyed the slight tickle of her hair against his skin. He remembered the days when Pete and Lana had gone out, and he and Chloe had just laid in the secret bunker and made out like the teenagers that they still were, even if they'd been forced into a world that required them to be older than their years.

He smiled up at the ceiling as he thought of what Chloe could have done with her life had things gone as they should have. She might have been a reporter, maybe for the planet because he knew Chloe wouldn't accept anything less. She would have been great too, because what Chloe wanted to be great at, she was great at.

He wondered what he would have done with his life. That was a little less clear than what Chloe would have done. He hadn't known what he'd wanted to do before the aliens had decided it for him. He wondered if he might have become a journalist as well. He'd considered it, after all.

Lex would have taken over Luthor corp and probably would have become more rich and famous than he already was. Clark wasn't sure if they'd have remained friends or not. He just wasn't sure what Lex would have done if he hadn't seen what it was like under someone who was cutthroat and ruthless (the aliens). He wondered if maybe he actually had the aliens to thank for Lex remaining good.

Pete would have stayed in Wichita, and Clark probably wouldn't have seen him again. Clark didn't know what he would have done, but he had no doubt that it would have been worthwhile.

Lana's stolen future was the one that he really mourned for. He suspected that she would have remained good and sweet, that she wouldn't have betrayed them. The pressure of the life she'd been living had been what had made her crack, and Clark knew that without it she would have been a generally good person.

"Clark?"

Clark smiled softly to himself. Trust Chloe to wake up when he was thinking hard thoughts. "Hey, Chloe."

She snuggled into him further and he rolled over a little bit so that he could fully hold her. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"Oh, nothing...and everything." He couldn't explain his feelings, not even to her. It wasn't from lack of wanting to, but simply the inability to do so.

She tenderly reached up and kissed him, easily exploring the recesses of his mouth with her tongue as if she belonged there. Something in Clark's brain immediately short-circuited with pleasure.

"I love you," she whispered when she finally pulled away. Slowly, as if afraid to spook him, she brought her hand up and stroked his hair. "What are you thinking about?"

He leaned into her touch, reveling in the warmth of it. The need just to be touched—to prove that he was human enough to still feel—consumed him. "Have you ever thought of how our futures could have been different?" he asked slowly, trying to work out how to convey his feelings.

The sheets wrinkled a little under him as he moved over a bit, trying to get an easier position to hold her. "Of course," she replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "But I can go over 'what if's' a thousand times in my mind and still not get anywhere. I choose to make the best with what I can."

He sighed as he lowered his head to gently kiss at her neck. She sighed in pleasure and melted into his touch. "I think that's a very good idea," he muttered, loosing himself in feeling.


	24. Chapter 24

The sharp knock at the door startled Clark awake, and he felt Chloe jump beside him. "Oh gosh," she whispered sharply, startled and slightly afraid. "Who is it?"

Clark leaned up on one elbow, squinting his eyes at the door. "Lex," he muttered. "Where are my pants?" he asked, not even to Chloe in particular. He looked up at the ceiling as if he just expected them to drop out of the sky.

"Heh, you're guess is as good as mine," she said with a slight laugh. "You were the one who threw them."

"You stripped them off and then proceeded to make my brain short-circuit," he hissed back. "I can't be held accountable for my lack of thought during sex."

She smiled devilishly. "Uhuh."

"Uh, just a mintue, Lex!" Clark called. "Damn it, where are my _pants_!"

Annoyed, he leaned down off the bed and peaked underneath it. His pants were there, as were his boxers. Who knew how they'd even gotten there.

After putting on his clothes he went, grumbling slightly, to answer the door. "What the hell do you want?" he growled when he opened it.

Lex raised an eyebrow. "I'd like you and Chloe to come to the lab with me."

"Give us a second," he requested dryly.

"Something wrong, Clark?" Lex asked with a smirk. "Is it related to why you're wearing only boxers and why it took you so long to answer the door?"

"I hate it when you know too much," Clark grumbled. "Just a second," he muttered, turning back into the room and shutting the door.

"What was that?" Chloe immediately asked from her position on the bed.

"Lex wants us to come to the lab."

She groaned, turned over, and buried her face in her pillow. "Can't he just go away for now?"

"That's not in his emotional lexicon. Lex never leaves things alone; it's not who he is." He began to move about the room, picking up Chloe's discarded clothing and finally returning to the bed to drop it on her. "Is sex really more important than freeing millions of people?"

She groaned again, but this time turned over and pulled various articles of the clothing on. "Maybe," she muttered grudgingly.

Clark snorted softly while in the midst of putting his shirt on. He loved Chloe, and it was cracks like that that reminded him why. "C'mon," he said with a soft laugh.

She mumbled something inaudible under her breath, but nodded and climbed off the bed to follow him to the door. Lex was still waiting when they got outside. Clark could see the amusement on his face, but he'd expected that. Lex still seemed to be amused by anything that could mean Clark wasn't completely innocent.

"Something funny?" Chloe asked seriously, facial expressions issuing a challenge. Clark knew it was because she had so much pent up emotion and was simply looking for a vent, but it still didn't fail to be amusing and slightly absurd at the same time.

Lex's eyes danced, his amusement increasing at the sight of an agitated Chloe. "Something wrong, Chloe?"

"No," she muttered fiercely under her breath. "Nothing."

Lex shrugged and looked back at Clark. "Anyway, I've got the serum to destroy the aliens ready, but the antidote is still posing a problem."

Clark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. There was no sound save for that and their footsteps echoing on the floors.

"It's not your fault, Clark," Lex soothed.

"I can't hold this back," he said, almost to himself, with a shake of his head. "That's not fair."

"So you're telling us to release a virus that could kill you?" Chloe asked incredulously. Clark could see the lines of wrinkles on her forehead as her brows furrowed in disbelief. He never would have believe that he could find even that sexy.

"I-I don't know," he replied honestly as Lex stopped at a door and ushered them inside.

"Well, I'm telling you that I won't do it," Lex said simply. "Welcome to the lab," he said as means of an introduction, waving his arm in an encompassing sweep.

It was small, but very adequate. In fact, the whole complex was small enough that it would be hard to find. Just because the lab was small didn't mean it wasn't well furnished, though. Lex had really put his wealth to work and done a bang-up job this time, Clark thought to himself. Whatever they needed, this lab probably had it.

That didn't ease Clark's feelings of unease at all, though. He'd never really liked labs, and this wasn't an exception. When Chloe's hand pressed into his he knew that she understood how he felt. He thanked God for her, because he was really feeling kind of nervous.

Lex knew how he felt too, and was watching him carefully. "How's your arm, by the way?"

Clark shrugged slightly. He'd taken the brace off a little while ago since his powers had returned. "Perfect," he replied truthfully.

Lex nodded. "Good. Anyway, I've been working down here on the serum for at least two years, but I finally got it right a short time ago."

"And who did you test it on?" Clark asked darkly. He could only imagine the various means of testing that Lex had done.

"A random alien that I caught and brought down here. As you're suggesting that we wipe them all out that shouldn't be too much of a violation to your moral code."

Clark thought he sensed a slight insult in that. No, he knew he did. "Do you have a problem with my moral code?"

Lex only sighed and pinched the bride of his nose. Clark knew it to be a sure sign of stress. "Never, Clark. But as I was saying, I've developed a serum I'm sure will work. I've also developed an antidote, but I'm not sure _that _will work."

"You're not sure?" Chloe shot, joining in the conversation. "Then why don't you test it?"

She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Clark was very tempted to laugh.

"And how do I do that, Chloe?" he inquired, his voice frustrated.

"Get an alien," she suggested in an exaggeratedly blatant manner. "Inject it with the antidote. See if it gets killed when exposed."

"And to do that I'd have to go back above ground to get one. Then I'd have to cause a stir when it goes missing."

She sighed and leaned back against the wall of the lab. "Then what do you have for a plan?"

He shrugged, and Clark was at first at a loss as to what emotion was playing over Lex's face. It took him a little while to realize it was the emotion that was incited when you realized you didn't have a viable option. It certainly wasn't an emotion Lex displayed much, for he was known for creating options when he didn't have any.

Clark sighed. "You could always use me."

Lex looked at him like he was nuts. "Yeah, Clark, and if the antidote isn't successful then I can watch you die while I'm at it."

Clark sighed again and stared down at the floor, willing himself not to shout at Lex or do something else he'd regret. "You don't have a better plan."

"No plan is better than that," he retorted defiantly, his tone leaving no room for disagreement.

Clark was about to offer a scathing retort to that, but Chloe interrupted him. "He's right, Clark," she said softly.

So, everyone had apparently ganged up on him. Just lovely. "I could go get an alien for you to experiment on."

"No," Lex immediately replied. "Lana has probably informed them about your aversion to meteor rock."

Clark felt like screaming. What was the good of having powers if you couldn't use them?

"Then what do we do, Lex?"

"You let me worry about it."

"I'm not fifteen anymore," Clark growled through clenched teeth. "Don't treat me like that kid you knew in Smallville."

Lex smiled at him softly, and Clark had the impression that Lex was remembering all the times that he'd been that kid—so young and naive. From the expression on Lex's face, no matter how well hidden to just about anyone but Clark, Clark got the impression that Lex missed that boy. Was it possible that he regretted that Clark had lost that innocence, even if he'd still retained his goodness?

"I'm not, Clark," Lex said finally, absentmindedly scratching at his left arm. "Now go get some sleep while I figure this thing out."

Clark knew when he'd been dismissed, so he gently grabbed Chloe's hand and headed from the room. Some sleep sounded good anyway.

-------------------------------------

"I guess even aliens need to sleep."

Clark wondered why Lex could never just seem to shake him gently awake like most people. Why did he always feel the need to offer some random statement?

"You already knew that," he mumbled from where his face was still in the pillow.

"I did have you followed for the good part of five years," Lex replied, and Clark saw his shrug when he opened his eyes. "Of course, you did an annoyingly good job of getting them off your trail so I don't know nearly as much about you as I could."

"Emm, good to know," he muttered, sitting up. A quick glance around showed him that Chloe was gone. "Where's Chloe?"

"Getting something to eat. She originally waited for you to wake up, but hunger waits for no man."

"How's the antidote going?"

Lex sighed. "I've gone over and over the formulas for the antidote, and as far as I can tell nothing is wrong. But if I've made a mistake..."

Clark could hear the pure worry in his voice. It made him more than just a little sympathetic. Had he always been such a burden to those he cared about? "Any news on the search for you?"

Lex chuckled softly. "Our favorite small-town princess has been feeding them annoyingly personal information about me. It seems I haven't changed my habits enough since I've been in Smallville. You, on the other hand..."

"Is that a compliment or your outward show of regret?" he asked tiredly as he pulled a shirt on.

"A little of both," Lex said with a small shrug. "You had to grow up too fast."

That was definitely regret, pure and simple. Clark had never thought he'd see the day when Lex Luthor would be that easy to read. Apparently he just brought out the most vulnerable bits in him. "We all had to make sacrifices, Lex. Chicago was proof of that. We knew we were going to take hits, but we also knew that it would deal some vicious blows to the empire. And it did."

"Was it worth it in the end? Especially having paid with Lois's life?"

"I...don't know," he admitted honestly. "That was a hard thing. And Pete-" For the first time he found himself examining Pete's death. The emotions that he'd built a damn against slowly began to seep forward until they entirely broke through the emotional levees. "I miss him, Lex. He was my best friend for those five years. Well, Lana was too, but I don't think she really was."

"You'll never stop missing your friends, Clark," Lex said gently, sitting down on the bed next to him. "I can't promise you that."

"He died for a good cause. That's what he wanted to die for. We both knew it could have happened. It could have just as easily happened to me. It almost did." The last sentence was said almost wistfully, as if he were lost in memory.

"You know how much it hurts you to have lost Pete?" Lex asked after a moment. Clark merely nodded. It did hurt; it hurt a lot. Lex looked at Clark, his eyes piercing into him. "Then you understand what it's like to loose someone you care about. That's why I won't take a chance with that antidote. The possible sacrifice of your life wouldn't be worth it to me."

Clark could only sigh. Why did it feel like things were always his fault?


	25. Chapter 25

The two days that passed since Lex had dismissed Clark from the lab so that he could work on an antidote seemed like an eternity to Clark, especially with the stagnant state of things. Clark wanted something to happen, and the fact that the serum was being delayed because of him made his insides boil with anger.

Lex seemed frustrated as well, and Clark knew that if he still didn't have a plan after two days then he was at a complete loss as to what to do. He didn't say that he was frustrated, but the evidence was in the way Lex carried himself and even talked.

The status quo was holding, so Clark decided to get breakfast to break up the monotony of his frustration. Lex was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee, and staring at the wall while deep in thought. At first Clark didn't think he'd heard him come in, but then Lex said clearly and firmly, "The only way is to get an alien to experiment on."

"I told you that two days ago," Clark replied dryly.

"I'm going out tonight." Lex still didn't look away from the wall, but kept staring at it as if it held the answers he needed.

"I'm going too, then," Clark responded, getting a cup of coffee for himself. It smelled wonderful, especially since he hadn't had much for the past five years.

"You're not," Lex snapped sharply, finally looking away from the wall. Clark really didn't like the determination he saw in Lex's face. That was the look he got when it would be impossible to sway him. "If they have meteor rock then you won't stand a chance."

"And you most likely won't either," Clark pointed out bluntly. And Lex had always accused him of having the hero complex...

"I've got a better chance than you."

Lex's jaw was firmly set, and Clark could see the fighting light in his eyes that let him know that chances were that Lex would get what he wanted.

"And if you fail?" Clark asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lex's face became even more determined, and Clark saw that his knuckles had turned white from the harsh grip he had on the coffee cup. "Failing isn't something I do," he replied as he got up from the table.

"Everyone fails, Lex!" Clark called after him as Lex reached the door.

Lex stopped in the door and moved his hands out to push against the doorframe in an emotion that Clark couldn't decipher. "I won't allow that to happen this time," he whispered so softly that Clark barely heard it as Lex left the room.

Clark was left standing with coffee in his hands and some rather important decisions floating around in his mind.

------------------------------

Clark and Chloe watched Lex slip up the stairs and outside later that night. Clark was on pins and needles, and even Chloe seemed to be rather nervous. With his x-ray vision, Clark followed Lex until he was out of even his eyesight.

The underground lab had a small portable black and white TV. It may have only gotten the basic channels, but that was all that Clark needed to see what was going on.

Chloe made them some more coffee and then they settled in together to keep watch on the TV. For quite a while there was nothing and Clark found himself hoping. The coffee was pleasantly warm in his hand, and it smelled heavenly. Chloe lying against his chest was even better, and in such a situation Clark had to believe that hope was possible.

Sometime after he'd finished his coffee he found that he'd dropped off to sleep. Clark didn't like to admit to things like that, because he prided himself on his vigilance. In this case, however, he'd certainly failed in that field.

What finally woke him was Chloe's terrified gasp. At first it didn't really register what was wrong, and he opened his eyes slowly. He was so warm and comfortable that it didn't seem like something could possibly be wrong.

Chloe's worried voice called through the haze that was encompassing him, and he slowly began to register that everything wasn't right. It began to all trickle back to him: Lex had gone after aliens, Lex wasn't in the lab, and Chloe was scared.

"What is it?" he asked as he returned to full awareness.

Her pretty eyes were about as wide as they could go. Not speaking, she nodded towards the TV.

Clark didn't know why he was surprised. After all, he really shouldn't have been. Hadn't he been the one that had only told Lex mere hours before that he'd fail?

"Oh my gosh," he whispered.

"Yeah," Chloe breathed in reply.

Lex was on TV, but it certainly wasn't in the way most people would want to be. No, this was in the form of a red strip running across the bottom of the screen reading like this: Lex Luthor captured around 11:00 PM last night. Luthor is noted for escape from prison and harboring a fugitive. He is now in the hands of republic. More within the hour.

There was a woman on the TV and she looked to be reporting on something, so Clark quickly grabbed the remote and blasted the volume. Her voice was pretty and young, but her message certainly wasn't.

"I'm here before the capitol building where noble-turned-criminal Lex Luthor is being held. We were told that his trial has just commenced. As you all know, Luthor is famous for being the first and only prisoner to escape from the capitol's prison. That's all we have for now. Back to you, Rick," she said with a cheery smile that was just so against Clark's mood.

"He'll loose," Clark said, completely devoid of any obvious emotion. And yet, his lack of visible emotion showed the deep level that it was really at. Clark had never really been an overly demonstrative person. But right now, inside, he was scared to death and feeling so guilty.

"I know," she replied.

And they did; they both knew. Lex would obviously loose the trial set up by the kangaroo court that he was being tried in.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, and Clark saw that out of the corner of her eyes she was watching him carefully. It was almost as if she were gauging his reaction.

Clark had known what he was going to do from the moment that he'd seen the announcement on the television. He knew Lex would be found guilty, and that meant Lex would be sentenced to death.

He wasn't going to let Lex die because of him.

Robotically, as if he were operating on autopilot, Clark got up and headed for the door. He heard Chloe stand up after him, but he didn't really register it until she was in front of him and blocking his way.

"Clark, _no_," she rebuked him vehemently. "Lex wouldn't want this. _I_ don't want this."

"Enough people have suffered for my mistakes, Chloe," he replied coldly, though the coldness was not at all directed at her. Instead, it was self-disgust at the highest level, because he was sure that_ this was his fault_.

"Clark!" she shouted, and it almost seemed like she was trying to get his attention. Was he really that out of it? Was it really that obvious? By the way she was grabbing his shoulders and trying to shake him, he thought that he probably was.

"I've got to do it, Chloe."

He gently picked her up by her shoulders and moved her aside before he strode out the door towards the lab. "No!" she shouted after him, and he could hear the muffled thud of her socked feet as they ran out the door after him. She was grabbing at him from behind, but it was equivalent to trying to move steel. She had no chance to stop him.

"Clark," she shrieked finally, "you've got to think about this!"

"It's all I've thought of for the past two days," he muttered, not at all deterred from his chosen course.

The lab door loomed before him, large and white. Wasn't it ironic that he might possibly die in a lab, even if it wasn't in the way he'd imagined? He pushed through it, and the lack of effort that it took to do so startled him. It was like in that moment that he was reminded of just how inhuman he was. _Though he'd been raised by humans, he was not one of them._ He was actually closer to the aliens, and that was a thought that scared him to no end.

It took him a moment or two of rummaging through the things in the lab before he found the serum. After a closer inspection he discovered it wasn't a serum, really, but more of a gas. It came from a serum, though, and there was a large tank of it.

Trust Lex to come up with a method like that. Clark smiled, though he wasn't sure if it was from nerves or not. He ran his fingers over the cool metal of the tank housing the serum, then up the pipe, to the part of the machine that converted the serum to a gas. Finally, his fingers rested on a switch.

It wasn't a good feeling to hold his own life in his hands. It didn't feel right that it was this easy, either. Just a switch, a little flip of a switch. His finger hovered over it.

"CLARK!" Chloe shouted from where she stood in the doorway, looking absolutely distraught. "Don't do it," she pleaded again.

Clark looked at her sadly. "I love you, Chloe."

"Clark, no, please, no," she whispered frantically, tears running down her beautiful cheeks. Her eyes looked larger than normal as they were outlined with her tears. Clark thought she looked breathtaking. If anything would have stopped him in that moment, it would have been her.

But he had to do it.

He had to fix what he was so sure was his fault in the first place.

"When I flip this switch I assume that the gas will defuse throughout the city. Just like the gas back in Smallville that made people live their worst fears! Remember that?" he asked. He was sure he was going to die and he wanted to cling to something familiar, because death was so very unknown.

"Clark," she sobbed. "Don't."

His face twisted in a grimace of unhappiness. "I love you," he said again.

Then he flipped the switch.

At first nothing at all happened, and Clark was so frightened as he thought that it hadn't worked. Then, slowly, like the answer to a prayer and a curse at the same time, a purplish gas began to float out of a tube.

"Clark," Chloe screamed, running forward and grabbing him. Her arms were tight against his waist as the gas began to fill the room. He couldn't help but reach his arms back around her and kiss her lovingly on the mouth. If he died, that was definitely the last thing he wanted to feel.

Dizziness was the first thing that Clark felt. He thought he might have begun to sway, and he supposed he had because Chloe's arms tightened around him. She was sobbing with abandon, and Clark felt bad. Then his thoughts began to scatter, and he could feel them drifting back to the days of Smallville.

By the time black dots began to encompass his vision he wasn't even aware he was in the room with Chloe anymore. Therefore, when he passed out, he wasn't aware of who caught him and collapsed to the floor with him, unable to hold his weight. He wasn't aware of who it was that was lying on him, sobbing against his chest.

He knew none of those things, just as he wasn't there to see the serum begin to creep under the door and towards a waiting and very vulnerable world.


	26. Chapter 26

Clark had thought that death would be a little more...less earth-like. Death shouldn't look the lab, should it? And if it did why was he looking _down_ on the lab? How strange it was, especially because he was looking at his body and Chloe, as if from someone hovering above them.

And he was breathing.

Not him personally, but the body on the ground. So he wasn't dead. What was he? Why was he seeing the room like this?

Clark tried experimentally to move his feet, and was shocked to find that, while he moved forward, he didn't have feet. He didn't have a body. Yet, for some reason, he could still see everything. Apparently the serum hadn't killed him.

Chloe was sobbing over him, and that was hard to watch. Even in trying to fix the things he'd done he'd still caused pain to those he loved most. She was lying with his head in her lap, and she was gently carding through his hair. The way she was stroking made Clark wish he were there to feel it.

Had all of this really happened to him? Had he really been the guy who had joined the resistance, been captured by aliens five years later, been tossed in a truck, branded, ended up in a slave market, and been rescued by his erstwhile best friend? It didn't seem like it could really be him.

Clark willed himself to float forward just to see if he could. He was shocked when it was easier than physically trying to move. Was this just his spirit or something? Clark wasn't sure he knew, but at that point it didn't matter because the gas was flowing under the door.

He felt rather bad about it, but Clark willed himself away from Chloe. At first he thought he was going to hit the door, and it was a radical discovery when he simply floated through the door as if it were mere air.

Perhaps to him it was equivalent to that.

The gas had spread throughout the rest of the lab and had gone up to the upper levels of the warehouse. Clark followed it, watching its progress. It was slow to him, but he knew it was probably pretty fast for a gas.

His mind once again went back to the days of Smallvile and the time everyone had been forced to live their worst nightmare. His seemed rather dull now, but that might have been because he was neither in love with Lana, nor afraid of her reaction to him being an alien.

The gas finally spread out of the warehouse and into the outside air. It was now the early hours of the morning, perhaps five o'clock. This meant that a few aliens were out on patrol, but the streets weren't very crowded yet.

Clark watched the gas spread, finally reaching the first alien. Well, actually the second, but he didn't really want to count himself. He wondered if he'd looked like this alien did.

It looked curiously at the gas floating by it, even sniffing at it. Clark found himself "chuckling" slightly, if that was even possible without a body. But still, it was very funny. Why would you _sniff_ an unknown gas?

Clark observed the alien's transition from stable and upright to obviously dizzy. He watched as it began to stagger around, finally collapsing to its knees, apparently in a state of delirium.

But the alien didn't stop breathing either, at least not yet.

Clark followed the gas's progress all the way to the capitol. The effect was the same on all the aliens. It was like they got a bad case of vertigo, became unaware of their surroundings, and then collapsed in a heap.

As the gas went into the capitol building, Clark did as well. It wound through the halls and, as Clark followed it, he found he was enjoying his matter-less state.

It took him a while, but he eventually found Lex's courtroom. Even without a body, he felt himself shivering when he saw it. Like Victoria, Lex was chained to a chair, albeit a lot more composed than she'd been.

And there was Lana.

Clark saw her, sitting front and center. As he did, he felt a clenching in the pit of his non-existent stomach. How could she have done all this to them? They were the people that had protected her, that had loved her. How could she have done it?

"The testimony is clear, Mr. Luthor," the alien said softly. From the threatening and blood-thirsty look on the creatures face, Clark could tell what it was thinking and probably had been thinking since the start of the trial. Lex would be found guilty.

Or would have.

The purple gas floated into the room, and the alien that had just spoken was the first to see it, because he was seated at the front of the room and was, therefore looking at the door. "It is obvious—what?" he asked slowly, looking at the gas.

That obviously wasn't the answer that Lana was looking for. Clark watched with immense satisfaction as she put a hand on her hip and pursed her lips angrily, watching the judge. "Sir-" she tried to say.

The alien waved his hand, gesturing for her to be quiet. Clark watched the look of confusion go to slight fear as the gas floated towards the front of the room.

Fear and horror erupted on Lex's face as soon as he saw what was in the air. Clark was unsure as to why at first, but then he realized that Lex had simply put two and two together. If the gas was released, he knew who had done it. That also meant he knew that Clark was dead...or whatever he was.

"Take Mr. Luthor back to his cell for now until we may ascertain what this unknown substance in the air is," the alien ordered in its native tongue.

Two other aliens who were also in the room came forward and unchained Lex from the chair. Clark smiled as he realized they were looking a little bit woozy. Their fingers were not at all deft as they unchained Lex. And Lex, instead of looking relieved, looked downright frightened.

"What's going on?" Lana demanded. Her brow was furrowed with anger and immense frustration. Clark wondered what it would feel like to have worked so hard, only to loose everything. He loved karma.

The aliens holding Lex dropped to the ground with a muffled thud. "What's going on?" Lana demanded again, more loudly this time. To her displeasure no one answered. It wasn't like they could, as they were all—including the judge—unconscious.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Lex hissed, stepping towards her. Clark had never seen Lex look so utterly threatening in his entire life. The look in his eyes was something akin to what it should have been at Armageddon. "You were the catalyst that has evoked something deadly."

"Deadly?" she asked, her hands going to her mouth as if she could stop the flow of the poison air. Silly girl, Clark thought to himself as he floated easily above her. He'd long since discerned that he was invisible to the naked eye.

"Not to you, Lana," Lex spat. "But to aliens. _Any alien_."

She didn't seem to understand Lex's emphasis on the last words, but she did drop her hands from her mouth. "You were making this all along," she accused, stepping towards him.

It was a big mistake. Lex's jaw muscles tensed, and Clark was sure his hands were shaking. If Lex was showing that much outward emotion, Clark shuddered to think what he was thinking. "Congratulations, you're going to get to see everything that you've worked for go down the tubes. All of the aliens will be dead within the hour."

Her face paled until she was the color of a corpse. Clark was pretty sure that if Lex had his way that's what she'd be. "And it could have been avoided, Lana," he said, his voice becoming soft. "If you'd left Clark alone this wouldn't have happened."

"Clark? What's Clark got to do with this?" she asked. She crossed her arms across her chest and furrowed her brow, giving off the impression of discontent and confusion.

Lex laughed bitterly. "Practically everything. I had that serum for three years, but I only just got the antidote. I haven't tested it and I wasn't willing to disperse the gas that came from the serum until I was sure that the antidote would work."

Her eyes widened in realization. "Because Clark's an alien. He's dead then."

"If he is then I'll make sure you are too," Lex promised threateningly.

"He wouldn't want you to kill me." She was right, Clark knew. He didn't want her dead. He didn't want anyone dead. But that was war, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I didn't want him to release that gas, so I guess we'd be even. Besides, he only did it because he knew I'd loose this trail—this trial that was your fault. Which makes Clark's decision directly your fault. Tell me, Lana, were you always this selfish?"

Lex was scary when he was like this. Clark was actually scared of the man in that room. He was scared of what he might do. Lex had never been like that to him, and Clark sincerely hoped he never would—if he even lived to find out.

"Are all the aliens really going to die?" she asked after a moment. Clark found himself thinking that was a very lame answer.

Judging by Lex's face, he seemed to think so too. "Yes," Lex replied. "Except for, hopefully, one."

As Lex turned to walk out the door of the courtroom, Clark felt something strange in the pit of his stomach. He might have had no body, but this feeling was so acute that he couldn't possibly have missed it. It was almost like he was...fading.

That thought was confirmed when his vision and view of the courtroom began to disappear. He was being pulled downward, faster than he should have been, and he scared. So, so, scared. As darkness closed over him he felt himself scream.

----------------------------------

He didn't feel anything for a while. It was like he was caught between death and life; he wasn't able to hear or see anything from either place, but he knew he wasn't in either life or death.

It was so peaceful there, and his mind drifted. He remembered Lana in Smallville. She'd always been beautiful, but Clark preferred the generally innocent girl of Smallville to the vicious Parana of the capitol and political life.

He didn't know why, but his mind drifted back to prom and that year he'd danced with her. She'd been...so beautiful. And a few days later meteors the meteors had fallen from the sky and killed what their life could have been. Had she already been on the path at that moment to become the traitor that she was now? Had the girl he'd held in his arms that night been the same girl who betrayed him and everyone he loved a few years later?

It didn't matter, because Chloe was the better catch. She had been even at that time, but Clark had been blinded by routine and by what he'd been sure he'd wanted. Once the war had started those blinders had come off. Apparently once your life hung in the balance—once you knew that every day could be your last—you made different choices. Usually they were more thought out and better.

Pete had been gone by then, and Clark remembered how relived he'd been when they'd reunited after the aliens invaded. Lex may have been his best friend, but so was Pete. He had needed Pete just as much as he had needed Lex. Pete and Lex had been like night and day, but Clark had needed them both equally.

He'd needed all of the people who stuck by him during the war. His parents had been with him at first, and he remembered when his father had disappeared. They hadn't known if he'd been dead or not, at least not for sure—but his mother had known. Maybe there was a connection after being married that long. Clark would never know, but his mother had wasted away before his eyes, finally dieing.

It was the hardest thing that Clark had ever had to watch.

Clark's oblivion was interrupted by something poking at his skin. It was the prick of that needle that told Clark for sure that he wasn't dead. For a moment after he felt nothing, but slowly his hearing began to return. It still felt as though he were hearing the noise from the opposite end of a tunnel, but it was certainly better than nothing.

"He can't be dead." That sounded like Chloe. Was he in the lab?

"He's got a pulse, but I—Chloe, I just don't know." He'd never heard Lex sound that worried in his life. At least, he was pretty sure this was part of his life.

"Are all the other aliens dead?" Clark heard Chloe ask, though she sounded tired. Or maybe she'd just seen too much.

"If they're not they will be within the next few hours," Lex answered her, but Clark didn't think it sounded like Lex thought he'd won a victory at all. Quite the contrary, actually. Clark wondered if he was really so important that he inciting such feelings.

"How long until we know if the antidote worked or not?" she asked. She seemed so worried, and Clark desperately wanted to remove that feeling from her.

"It's never been tested, Chloe. There's absolutely no way that I can tell. What did he do, anyway?"

"Is that your way of asking why he did this?"

"Yes." Lex always had been blunt, at least at times like this.

"He saw that you'd been caught on the news. You know he blames himself for all of this. He thinks the meteor shower was his fault."

It was his fault, at least in his opinion. There was no other viable person it could have been. He'd caused this, and no matter how they tried to shift the blame off his shoulders it just wasn't going to work.

"He's got a messiah complex bigger than Canada," Lex said with a large sigh. "So basically it all overwhelmed him? The guilt, I mean."

There was a soft stroking of his hair that Clark absolutely loved. It had to be Chloe, because in the rare times Lex had touched him in that manner it had been a very different feeling. Most people wouldn't have thought so, but a friend versus a lover was light-years apart as far as even a simple touch went.

"I think so," he heard Chloe reply.

And was it his imagination, or did he feel life coming back into his limbs? He determinedly tried to move his fingers and was met with stabbing pain, but he could have sworn he felt a little bit of movement. And he was no stranger to pain, nor was he afraid of it. He could fight the paralysis even if it meant that he had to fight pain again.

He made a fresh attempt to move his fingers, and this time the pain was less, and he was sure he'd moved a little more. He did it again, and again, and again. Eventually the pain dulled to something like you get after you've slept on one of your limbs and cut off its blood supply. It was almost tingly.

"He just moved his hand," Clark heard Chloe say sharply, almost as if she didn't dare to hope that he had.

"Are you sure?" he heard Lex reply.

He knew he had to move it again, had to let them know he was functioning. He curled his fingers in.

"Clark," he heard Lex say, "if you can hear me, please move your hand.

Clark forced his hand to move again. Was there really a possibility that he might be alright? Did stories like his really have happy endings?

"He can hear us," Chloe whispered. "Clark, please, Clark. Fight this!"

There was more life returning to his limbs by the minute. Though the process was slow, he could feel it as surely as he'd been able to feel the wind in winter when he'd gone outside to feed the cows. He fought to open his eyes.

That took a little more doing and a good five minutes, but finally he was able to force them open. His sight was so unfocused at first, and everything swirled in a great blur of color. He heard Chloe and Lex's fervent words of encouragement and praise, as well as Chloe's choking sobs.

His eyes focused after a little bit more blinking. Sight was a wonder when you'd thought you'd never see again. It was something he wasn't sure he'd ever get over.

Chloe was indeed crying, and Lex looked so relived. Clark was surprised Lex hadn't died from showing so much emotion, as he usually tried to hide or at least mask his feelings. The next thing Clark wanted to do was smile, because he wanted so desperately to reassure them.

"Keep fighting, Clark, you've got it," Lex muttered to him, hand on his shoulder with a warm comforting pressure. Chloe's hand was still in his hair, stroking gently. The feel of it was almost erotic to Clark, and he wondered if his scalp was a hot spot of his.

After a little more time elapsed he was finally able to pull off smiling. As he regained more and more of his facial movement the rest of his body slowly began to follow. It was almost like he was thawing out. Maybe this was the slower version of what Brendan Nash had done to his victims in Clark's senior year when he'd brought them all to that replica of the school.

By the time he had control of his arms and legs, both Chloe and Lex had helped him up. "Don't you ever do that again," Lex rebuked him seriously. "Do you know how I'd have felt if you'd died?"

"You know I didn't have an option," Clark shot back, though his voice was rather weak, as his vocal cords were still getting used to being able to move again.

"Really, Clark, I thought you were passed the age when Lex had to keep his dangerous chemicals locked up so that you couldn't get into them," Chloe joked. She hadn't stopped smiling since she'd seen that Clark was alright. If there were a textbook definition of relief, Clark thought he'd seen it in her.

Lex and Chloe helped him out of the lab, for which Clark was very thankful, as he never wanted to see the place again. After all, how many people want to see the place where they almost died? Couple that with the fact that being dissected in a lab was a life long fear of his, those things made the lab a place he really didn't desire to be.

The bed was softer than Clark remembered as Lex and Chloe helped him down on it. Had he really just made love with Chloe on it the previous night? He smiled, bliss washing over him. It was like his nerves had been heightened, and the feel of a soft bed under them tickled them into something like euphoria.

"Are all the aliens dead?" he asked after a few minutes.

"They should be now," Lex replied. He and Chloe had simply been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching and waiting until Clark was ready to talk.

"And Lana?" he added, his tone darkening. He didn't really want to talk about her, and, yet, he had to know.

"I don't know. I left the courthouse to come find you. I figured it would be easier to track her down later than it would be to bring you back to life."

"That's appreciated," Clark said with a weak laugh. Still, he really didn't like the prospect of having to hunt Lana down. He actually really didn't like the prospect of having to see her again at all. To look into her face, knowing that she'd betrayed them all; it wasn't something he wanted to do.

It was something he'd have to do.

"But you have no idea where she is now?" Clark asked after a slight pause. Lana wasn't someone he really wanted to loose track of, at least not in the present day and age.

"I don't suspect that it will really matter, Clark," Lex replied. "If the aliens are dead then so is her power."

That made quite a lot of sense, Clark realized. Lana had gotten her power through others, and those means were always a wild card; you might have loads of sway when those people were at the top, but if you depended on someone other than yourself then they could fail at any time, leaving you with no way to fix that. Everything you had was riding on the decisions of others.

"But I—Lex, I just can't—I've got to finish things," he said finally as frustration washed over him at his inability to express his feelings.

Chloe didn't understand what he was saying. Clark could see that clearly on her face, and he didn't begrudge her blindness of the subject. Lex understood, possibly because he'd been in the same situation. And while Lex and Clark's mannerisms weren't at all the same, parts of their base nature were.

You didn't ever back down from a challenge.

And you met those who wanted to take you down.

Lex only nodded and shook his head at Chloe when she made a motion to protest. Clark was thankful, because he really didn't want to explain.

"Can you walk?" Lex asked him after a moment.

Clark forced himself to sit up. He'd be weak, but he'd drag himself if he had to. This was not something he could avoid.

"I'll bring him back, I promise," Lex told Chloe, a small smile on his lips. Such humor was so very Lex, and sometimes Clark had to wonder just how Lex had become like that.

Chloe had only nodded, but had looked much less than thrilled. Still, she didn't say anything and Clark appreciated that. There was absolutely no need to make things harder than they already were. And they were pretty hard already.

Lex carefully helped him up and towards the door of the room. He kept careful pressure on Clark's back, almost like he was judging if Clark was planning on falling. As they went out the last thing Clark saw was Chloe, her face slightly worried. That, Clark realized, was what someone looked like who knew that a person they loved was going to be unavoidably hurt.


	27. Chapter 27

I got a review asking me if I ever mentioned what happened to Martha. First of all, thanks for reviewing! I believe that I answered what happened to Martha in the chapter previous to this one:

"_He'd needed all of the people who stuck by him during the war. His parents had been with him at first, and he remembered when his father had disappeared. They hadn't known if he'd been dead or not, at least not for sure—but his mother had known. Maybe there was a connection after being married that long. Clark would never know, but his mother had wasted away before his eyes, finally dieing."_

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"Nice job, by the way," Clark complimented Lex seriously as they walked into the court room.

"What do you mean?" Lex asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Facing down Lana like you did. I mean, after the guards dropped, you basically told her that her race was run." The look on Lex's face was worth having to talk about what he'd seen, Clark decided.

"How did you know about that? You were unconscious in the lab."

"My body was," he explained. "But it seems that my mind wasn't. I watched the whole thing."

It would be something that was stuck in his mind until he died. Lex was, besides his father, probably one of the strongest people he'd ever known. To see him so obviously about to be condemned to die had been almost as painful as seeing the pictures of his father's death. Almost—because nothing would ever be worse than that.

"You saw that whole thing?" Lex asked, his voice going soft, and Clark wondered if he should be worried.

"Yeah. I—I wanted to know what was happening. And I just sort of followed the gas here."

Lex sighed and shook his head slightly. "It's fine," he said after a moment, though it was obvious that he was still less than happy about it. "Anyway, back to Lana."

Clark knew a blatant change of the subject when he saw it, but he didn't want to pursue the subject any further either, so he didn't call Lex on it.

"She's obviously not here," Clark noted, his eyes sweeping the room.

"That's fairly obvious," Lex replied with a smirk.

Lex always had a way of making Clark feel younger and older at the same time. Comments like that most definitely made him feel younger.

"Any idea where she might have gone?" Clark inquired. Because, really, Denver was too big to simply_ search_. Even for Clark, that might have been a bit of an absurd undertaking.

"Actually, yes," he answered. "I suspect that she'll have gone back to her lover's mansion in an attempt to salvage anything from his failure. She'll want anything that can possibly save her."

Clark nodded his head in agreement, though he really had no idea if Lex was correct. Lex's hunches and suspicions were usually right, though, so he thought he'd go along with it. It wasn't like they had any better leads.

-----------------------------------

Clark had to admit that he absolutely adored Lex's car. It was certainly a step up from that cattle truck that he'd ridden in after he'd been captured. He could still vividly remember the smells. The urine, the vomit, the iron tang of blood: These things haunted him, and that haunting most likely never would subside.

Most of all he remembered the smell of death.

And that was much the same in the whole city now. Clark tried to force himself not to look at the alien bodies littering the street as if they were just old garbage that had been swept there by the wind. Why had any of this happened to him?

Lex seemed so _calm_ about everything. Clark didn't know how he was, though. But then again, Lex always had been so much less swayed by his emotions than Clark was swayed by his. Clark had feelings and acted on them, whereas Lex had feelings and examined them.

"We're here, Clark," Lex told him from the driver's seat.

Clark immediately snapped back to the attention he hadn't known that he'd lost. Had he really drifted off again? Apparently so, because Lex was looking at him with something akin to sympathy.

"Oh, ok," he replied. His limbs might have been in perfect working order again, but it was still a chore to climb from the car, if for no other reason then because of what he might find in the house outside it.

What a house it was, too. It was like Lex's, only Clark had never spent much time outside Lex's house. He supposed that Lex's house was just as good, but, then again, he'd never know. "She's here," Lex said softly from beside him, one of his hands falling on Clark's arm as if he were afraid he'd bolt.

Clark was glad for it, because he wasn't so sure that he wouldn't.

"How do you know?" he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Her car—it's in the driveway."

Clark realized that Lana knew she was finished. She wasn't even bothering to try to conceal the location of where she was hiding. Instead, she'd simply parked her car out front like she was waiting. It was a devil-be-damned attitude, and Clark didn't think it suited her. Apparently, though, if she was going to go out, she was going to do it with her head up.

Clark felt Lex's hand on his arm, guiding him towards the front door. It was a welcome presence still, because Clark thought he might have ended up in the fish pond by mistake if it wasn't there.

The front doors were very ominous with their dark wood, and Clark hoped they weren't a precursor of what he'd have to face inside. The entrance hall wasn't much better, but that might just have been his nervous attitude.

"Clark," Lex's voice called, jolting him out of his once-again absent-minded state. "Scan the house for her, please."

Clark did so, and saw her in a back bedroom, out on the balcony. She appeared to be drinking.

"She's upstairs, third bedroom to the right," he revealed, and Lex immediately began pulling him towards the stairs.

_"Those who follow us shall be given their lives; those who do not shall have theirs taken and shall be reduced to animals."_

Clark remembered the words of the alien's speeches. It had always been the same: There had been the promise of glory to those who followed, and the promise of terror and terrible treatment for those who didn't.

And for nearly five years it had been that way.

It was going to end that night.

Clark found it amazing that when you didn't want to be somewhere you seemed to get there faster. Going to the room Lana was in was no exception.

"Are you ready for this?" Lex asked seriously as his hand went to the door.

Clark only stared at him, aware that his face was blank. "No, but I never will be. Let's go."

Lex understood and knew that waiting would only make it harder. For all of his faults, Lex understood what made Clark tick. He may have not had the same reasoning, but he understood just the same. Sometimes that was a curse, but here Clark didn't think he'd have been able to handle it if Lex hadn't known what he was thinking.

They pushed the door open together and strode into the room. Blood was everywhere, and Clark had felt sick as he remembered his ride to the camp where he'd been branded. The smell: it was the same. It was that iron tang that seemed to be so strong that you could taste it in the air.

It scared him to death.

"My gosh," he breathed softly. "Lex, what did she do."

Lex either didn't hear him or didn't respond, because he was on his way to the French doors to the balcony and was already swinging them open when Clark spoke. Though Lex's back was to him, Clark saw him go ridged. "Lana," he announced softly, his voice low.

"Lex," came the soft reply. Clark was shocked at how much contempt and bitterness it held.

"Why did you do it?" Clark heard him ask.

Lana's bitter laugh met his ears, and it wasn't a nice sound at all. It was actually frightening to Clark, probably more so than it should of have been, actually.

"Because Clark won't let you kill me, and I won't live in a world where I'm under your control. I will not have worked this hard just to loose it all."

"You've already lost it all," he countered, his voice still low and almost pitying. Clark wasn't sure why, so he moved closer to the doors. Lex's outstretched hand on his chest stopped him.

"No," he heard Lana disagree, though he still couldn't see her. "I still have the power to take my own life." The cynical laughter that followed after was enough to make Clark's blood run cold.

Clark felt his heart plummet at her words, and he pushed through Lex's hand, needing to see what she'd done. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

She sat, or was more correctly sprawled, against the railing of the balcony. There was blood gushing from each wrist and Clark suddenly realized, to his horror, whose blood was in the bedroom. She'd refused to give up, and she'd exercised the only power she'd had left.

The power to take her own life.

She wasn't going to let her life be controlled by Lex and Clark, and she'd been right in thinking that Clark wouldn't let Lex kill her. To her, death had been better.

"Lana, why?" he choked out, emotion hitting him like a tidal wave.

In that moment all that he could see was the beautiful girl that he'd been in love with in Smallville. He could only see the girl next door, the homecoming queen, and who he'd danced with at the prom. As he stood there looking at her she once again became the fairy princess that he'd been in love with so long ago.

The only things he could see were the things she no longer was.

"Why?" he repeated.

She didn't look angry, at least not at him. "I'm so sorry, Clark," she whispered. "For everything that I've done to you. I—I just got caught up in the power I could have, and I knew that you had the means to take it away from me in the blink of an eye. I guess I just lost it after that."

Clark slowly moved forward, though his legs felt like lead. "It didn't have to be like this," he told her, sadness in every part of his body and voice.

"It did, Clark. Once I made the decision to betray you—to betray Pete and Chloe—it had to become like this. One of us had to loose."

Clark could see her skin paling more by every passing minute. Not sure what else to do, he came forward and took her wrists in his hand, applying pressure. "We'll get you help, Lana," he whispered.

"No, Clark," she said with a sad smile. "There's nothing you can do now."

"Lana, no, you can't-"

"You and Pete were so much more than I deserved," she told him, her voice weakening. Clark felt sick as he looked at her wan visage. The dark hair that fell around her face worsened the look. "I never loved Pete, though."

"W-what?" Clark stuttered, unable to believe that. They'd been together for three years. Lana had been everything to Pete, and Clark thought that it had gone both ways. It shouldn't have been possible that it wasn't true. There were so few good things in the war, and Clark had imagined that love had been one of those good things. He didn't want to let that go.

"Maybe that was why I did all of this," she muttered so softly that Clark had to bend in to hear it.

"Why?" Clark replied, his confusion multiplying.

"I loved you, Clark. Still do. I screwed up, but I thought some day you'd leave Chloe. I know that won't happen. Maybe that was why I tried to kill you."

Clark felt his insides roll. Was everything directly related to him? And Lana had been the one who had broken up with him!

"So you tried to kill me?" he asked incredulously, but still with hurt dripping from every word.

"'m sorry, Clark. I do love you. I wish things had been s-so different," she murmured as her eyes slipped closed.

There was blood all over. Clark could feel it on his clothes and hands, and it just served as a blatant reminder of what was happening. "Lana!" he choked out.

He felt Lex's hands on his shoulder, but he just couldn't make himself let go of Lana. He could still feel a slight throb of the blood under his fingers and he was so sure that if he just held on, if he just kept pressure on the wound that somehow she'd miraculously be alright.

"Clark, let go," he heard Lex say, but it sounded as if they were in different rooms. All that Clark could see was Lana before him, frighteningly pale skin accentuated by the blood on it. It was his fault she was dead. Everything was his fault.

"Clark!" Lex seemed to have given up of snapping him out of whatever state he was in and instead began to try to pry his hands off of Lana. Clark was so trained to only use human strength that it actually worked.

Clark let out a small muffled cry as he tried to pull his wrists, which were now in Lex's grip, away from Lex and reach back out for Lana. "Stop it, Clark. She's dead."

"She's not!" he yelled. "I could feel the blood still barely pulsing under my fingers. Please, let go, Lex."

Lex didn't let go, but only released his wrists and wrapped his arms around Clark so that his arms were pinned to his side. "Shhh," he muttered, keeping a hold on Clark as he struggled to get loose.

Clark could feel his hold on reality slowly returning. Lex was gently maneuvering him up to his feet and turning him so that they were back to chest, but only after he'd gotten him facing away from Lana. Clark appreciated that.

The smell of blood hung in the air as they moved from the balcony and back to the bedroom. Clark tried not to look too much and instead concentrated on just moving forward. Lex had dropped his full body hold when he saw Clark was calming down and was now instead holding Clark firmly by the upper arms while guiding him out of the room.

Clark's hold on clear thought returned a little more when they were finally away from the smell. He didn't think he'd ever be able to be near the smell of blood again with out somewhat loosing his mind. It just—the memories that it triggered—Clark wasn't sure he could handle them, at least not yet.

"She—Lex, it's my fault," he said finally as Lex brought him through more rooms that he didn't bother to really look at. As long as they were further away from the smell, from the blood, from _her_, then it didn't really matter.

His face was instantly caught in a strong grip, and Clark thought that if he hadn't recently regained his powers then he might have been bruised from it. "It. Is. Not." Lex's voice was clear, but Clark thought something like steel was under it. The way he said it—it just left no room whatsoever for an argument. "It is not your fault that any of this happened. You didn't have a choice about who you'd be, what planet you'd be born on—any of that. All you ever tried to do was the right thing, and you've saved so many lives, Clark. When someone has power as great as yours, someone is always going to be affected negatively, even if it's only because you tried to do the right thing. Someone is always going to be greedy enough to want to exploit you; people will always have negative ambitions like Lana had; someone is always going to get hurt, if only because there's no way to save everyone."

"Then it would be better if I'd never been born—if I'd never come to earth," Clark replied softly. He had to really wonder if maybe that was true. Lex's grip dropped from his face to his shoulders, but something in his posture ordered Clark to continue paying attention. He thought he really should learn how Lex said things without actually saying them.

"That's not tru, and I think deep down you know that. Whenever you have to make big decisions people will die, whether the decision was right or not. Sometimes, like now, it's a catch 22 and people will die anyway. Look at President Truman and the decision to drop the atomic bomb on Nagasaki and Hiroshima. If he didn't order it dropped the war wouldn't end and more people would die. If he dropped it people would die. Either way, someone was going to die. In the end, he just had to just do what he thought was right."

"I don't want that kind of responsibility. All I ever wanted was a normal life."

"But neither you nor I will ever have that. Longing over things you can't have only causes personal misery."

"It doesn't make sense, Lex. She broke up with me!" He was aware of just how plaintive his voice was, almost as if he were begging Lex to explain it to him. Yet, he knew he wouldn't get an explanation when the only person who had them was dead.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Lex replied softly as means of explanation. "She probably just didn't know what she wanted at the time."

Clark pushed himself up to his feet, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to get out of Lana's house. He needed to sleep for something like fifty years, maybe. He just hoped he didn't dream.

"Alright, let's go," Lex suggested, reading Clark easily as he guided him from the place where they'd randomly sat down when Clark had disembarked on his guilt trip.

Clark was more than happy to leave the room and the mansion. For all of Lana's newly gained wealth, she hadn't been able to make the mansion at all homey. Maybe that was just because she'd never lived in a place that big before, or maybe it was because it was her lover's mansion and not her own. Clark didn't know, and he found he didn't much care. He was suddenly just too tired to think.


	28. Chapter 28

All right, last chapter. Cheers loudly. I hope you've all enjoyed the story, and please let me know what you thought.

I don't know when I'll have another story up, but I do have a few prompts that I'm thinking of writing (a few have even been started). I'd appreciate it if, when you reviewed, you'd tell me which prompt you'd like to see.

1) My version of what happens after "Vessel" ends. It involves how Clark gets out of the Phantom Zone, how Lex and Zod get separated again, how Chloe and Lionel escape the mob, and what Zod does once he's separate from Lex. Jor-el also makes an appearance.

2) A historical fiction, set in ancient Greece. Features Lex and Clark, with Lionel also thrown in for some fun.

3) What would happen if Lex hadn't been sent to Smallville, and he hadn't been there when Earl Jenkins had held the students hostage at the plant? And what if Clark's secret hadn't remained so secret? Better yet, what if Clark had ended up in Metropolis under Sam Phalen's thumb? That sets the stage for this fic, which centers around Lex, being the morally upright man that he is ah hem, _yeah_, doing business with Phalen and becoming interested in what someone like Clark is doing in the city. Will Clark's secrets and reasons for leaving Smallville be discovered?

4) What if the events of "Reckoning" had been reversed? Lana's dead, but Jonathan Kent is still alive. What will a grief stricken Clark do?

5) (Future fic with references to the Superman movies) Clark's memories are erased by a former friend (yeah, guess who! ) He has no memories whatsoever, including that he's in love with Lois Lane. Lex plans to exploit his abilities in a nasty bought of corporate espionage. But even through Clark's disappeared, Lois doesn't intend to let things go so easily...

Anyway, that's the ideas I've got right now. Let me know what you think, though I've already decided to write some of these. (Although you're support will help me decide what to post first.)

Thanks for reading!

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Clark had been so tired that he'd barely noticed when Lex took him back to the mansion instead of the lab. He'd registered even less when Lex had brought him to a bedroom, told him to get in bed, and then had covered him up with a blanket, and pulled the curtains so that it was dark. Lex's quick words of, "Get some sleep while I go get Chloe," were barely comprehended, except to record the promise that Chloe would soon be with him.

Chloe

He needed her so much at the present time. Even as he had sunk into the pillows and had quickly fallen asleep, perhaps before Lex had even left the room, he knew that he needed her—especially after what Lana had just said.

Therefore, her warm hand was so welcome as she slipped into bed next to him and began to gently stroke through his hair. "Hey, Chlo," he muttered.

"Lex told me what happened."

If he wasn't mistaken he could hear the sympathy in her voice. Maybe he was wrong, though, because his nerves were still shot as well as any desire to move. And at the moment that was just fine with him.

"It was...hard," he told her, at loss for how to accurately describe it. Of all the things he'd been prepared for, that hadn't been it at all. He wished that hadn't been how it turned out.

Clark seldom got what he wished for, though, at least not these days.

"I can imagine. I think we're lucky Pete wasn't here to see it. Lois too, because she would have kicked her butt."

"Chloe, I feel...so awful. She was everything to Pete. He probably could have had her if it wasn't for me."

"If she goes fatal attraction on the guys she loves than I think Pete was better off not having her."

Clark had to laugh a little at that. Here he'd always thought Lex was the one whose girlfriends tried to murder him. Apparently, the trend had spread.

"Do you love me, Chloe?" he asked finally. He already knew the answer, but he needed confirmation. He needed to hear her say it.

"You know I do," she replied, no trace of duplicity in her voice. She continued to gently stroke through his hair, gently carding and occasionally reaching down to massage his scalp.

Clark knew she did love him, and nothing had ever felt so right in his life. Lana never could have felt so right. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd made the right choice. Like Lex had said, no matter what decision he made someone would most likely suffer. It was that way for most humans as well, he supposed. When it came to choose between people or the lesser of two evils, someone was always hurt. You just had to choose what you thought was right.

Clark was sure he'd made the right decision.

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The smell of coffee woke Clark the next morning. After deprivation from it for so long he thought he'd never get enough of that blessed drink ever again. Caffeine was most definitely a good thing.

He dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen, being fairly unsurprised to find Lex sitting there, cup of coffee in hand, pen in the other. After all, that was what Lex did before normal people were awake.

"What are you working on?" Clark asked as he entered.

Lex smiled tiredly at him when he spoke, giving Clark the distinct impression that he'd been up all night. The presence of coffee wasn't exactly deterring him from that thought.

"Things are back to the way they were after the American Revolution, Clark. Only this time it's world wide. We don't have Benjamin Franklin, John Hancock, George Washington, or any of the others to set it right."

So, naturally, Lex thought he had to do it. Yup, that was Lex, Clark thought to himself. And, though he'd never admit it, he thought that was probably a good thing since Lex was so good at what he did.

"I'm sure Lex Luthor will do just as good a job," Clark assured him as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Lex grinned slightly at that, but his thoughts and facial expressions once again turned serious as he announced, "All the aliens in this state are dead. By tomorrow that will be global."

Clark brow furrowed in confusion. "How is that?" he asked. "The gas shouldn't be able to spread that far." Gases didn't work like that. If they did then all of the gas leaks in the world or the random toxins that got out would have killed everyone long before the war started.

"It's on all the currency, Clark. Everything in this state is contaminated. That's not to mention that other aliens keep trying to come in here to help. Some make it back out long enough to come in contact with others. That spreads it. They're not smart enough to burn the dead alien's clothes or belongings after, either. Instead, they take the spoils without being aware that they're bringing death back to their people. I've also sent contaminated birds and other animals into various areas. A week from now they'll all be dead."

"You orchestrated this all while I was sleeping?"

He shouldn't have been surprised, really. That was Lex, after all. The guy did the hostile takeover thing on before breakfast.

"I've had it in the works for a while."

Clark couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. To think it was almost over. After nearly five years of oppression; of sleeping underground; of hiding, and cheating, and lying to save themselves and others; after five years of betrayal and duplicity...

_...freedom was within their grasp._

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"I never really thanked you, you know."

Lex was standing on his balcony, watching the sun set. He had a glass of scotch in his hand and when he turned around, Clark saw the subtle fondness of someone whose best friend is being confusing again.

"For what, Clark?" he asked with a small smile.

"For saving me in that market. I'd be dead if you hadn't."

Lex dipped his head slightly and then took another sip of scotch. "I'd be dead if you hadn't pulled me out of that Porsche. And we'd both be dead if we hadn't had each other over the past few weeks. We've got Chloe to thank as well."

Clark smiled and came to join him at the railing. Lex handed him another glass of scotch that had been sitting on the small patio table beside him. Clark raised an eyebrow as Lex handed it to him.

"I knew you'd show up eventually," Lex revealed as way of explanation, giving a small shrug as he gave the drink to Clark.

"Am I that transparent?"

"Only to me and possibly Chloe. But to us, yes, Clark, terribly so."

Clark grinned and sipped at the scotch. It only occurred to him that he was just barely old enough to drink.

"Do you realize that a year ago I couldn't legally drink this?" he asked, looking at the amber liquid.

"I'm well aware of your age, Clark," Lex told him with a soft snort. "I'm also aware that you should have been in college this whole time."

"The hostile alien takeover sort of prevented that plan," Clark pointed out. He'd had dreams, though, once upon a time. He'd wanted to go to Met U, maybe study journalism, and possibly have a family.

"Then as soon as things settle down you're going."

"Lex, I-"

He didn't have the money, nor any other means to. And, to be honest, he was almost...nervous at the prospect of fitting into society again.

"You're going," Lex said bluntly. "Chloe too."

"You're not my-"

"Father. Yes, Clark, I'm well aware of that. But on this particular subject I think your father and I would be in agreement.

He had to admit that he really hated it when Lex was right. It seemed like that happened a lot lately, too. "You know I can't, Lex," he murmured softly, hoping Lex understood what he was saying because actually saying it sounded like he was trying to get money off Lex.

"I'll be paying your way. That was already a given. Chloe's as well."

Lex took another sip of scotch and watched Clark lazily. Clark knew that meant it wasn't even necessary for him to answer, because Lex had already made up his mind.

"Why?" he asked, because it was all he could think to say.

And he really didn't understand why Lex cared so much. To most people it may not even have seemed like he did. Lex was often cold and business-like. But he was always accessible when Clark needed to talk, and he was most definitely always there when Clark needed him. He was even there for Chloe, who still didn't really_ like_ Lex, though Clark thought she probably trusted him.

"Because you deserve it. And because it's what friends do."

"Actually, Lex, believe it or not, it wasn't common practice for friend's to pay their other friend's way into college—not even before the aliens took over."

Lex smirked at Clark over the glass as he raised it to his lips. "Most people aren't friends with billionaires who are seven years older than them. We never exactly set the bar for normalcy, Clark."

"Touché," Clark muttered. And, once again, Lex was right; they really never had been the epitome of normal, nor did Clark see them becoming so very soon.

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Chloe was lying on their bed when Clark headed back in. Clark loved the way her golden hair fanned around her head, almost like a halo. "Lex says he's making us go back to school," Clark announced as he slid down next to her on the bed, giving her a kiss.

"Oh, he does, does he?" she asked, her eyes getting a look that Clark knew meant she was preparing herself for a fight. "And did he ask or tell you?"

"It's Lex, Chloe. He normally doesn't ask me things like that."

Chloe laughed slightly as she leaned into her pillow more. "He's not your older brother, Clark, you know that right? He technically doesn't have any right to tell you what to do."

"Lex never needed a right, at least not in his mind. Besides, that's his way of caring about me—and you. And I can't knock it too much as it's saved my life on a few occasions."

Chloe sighed, clearly not agreeing with him. In this case it didn't matter, though, because he knew that she secretly really did want to go back and get an education. It was only the matter of Clark taking orders from Lex that she hated. Clark couldn't explain to her that he almost liked it, because it made him feel like there was someone he didn't have to be the hero for. As much as he loved Chloe, he had to take care of her. It was nice to let someone worry about him for a change.

"At least going to college will mean life is getting back to normal," she said with a sigh.

"All the aliens are dead, Chloe. Clean up has begun. They're really all gone."

"It will take a while for governments to re-establish themselves," she pointed out, reaching out a hand to lightly trace patterns on Clark's abdomen. Clark shivered a little under the touch, but found he very much liked it.

"America is re-adopting the constitution."

"On Lex's recommendation. It's only a matter of time before he becomes president. There's talk of it already."

And there was. Lex was renowned throughout the world for having created the serum that had wiped out the aliens. He was a hero, and not just in the United States. There would be no one that could even hold a candle to him in an election.

"Haven't you always wanted to see the White House?" he asked playfully as he slung an arm across her in an attempt to pull her closer.

"I think that we'll probably do more than see it," she pointed out right before she leaned in to kiss him. When she broke away she muttered, "I don't think Lex plans to let us run off unchecked. Could you please explain to him that we're twenty-one?"

Clark laughed good-naturedly. He figured he'd heard enough, so he simply leaned in and restarted the kiss. It seemed to be a good tactic as they both quickly became lost in the warm heat, all conversation easily forgotten.

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"You'll win, you know," Clark told Lex bluntly. He, Chloe, and Lex were in the kitchen, eating dinner. The restaurants were beginning to get back up and running, but Clark didn't like the public eye. Chloe didn't mind it, though. She'd never been averse to having others admire her, and getting dressed up to go out in public was fun for her. Lex, of course, had been raised in the public eye and had no problems.

They both humored Clark, though. Lex (surprisingly) more so than Chloe. Chloe would prompt, push and hint, but Lex seemed to understand Clark's aversion.

"There's going to be no contest," Clark added. Lex had just been awarded the presidential nomination by a rebuilding United States.

Lex looked at him, his mouth somewhere between a smile and a smirk. "I don't think the White House can beat my mansion, but I guess I'll try."

Clark laughed and even Chloe had to smile a little. "Is the mansion is Smallville still standing?" Chloe asked curiously.

Lex nodded. "To my knowledge. I believe your farmhouse is as well, Clark."

Clark stopped with his fork half-way to his mouth. He'd thought the farmhouse had been destroyed years ago. "It really is?"

Lex nodded, his eyes carefully scanning over Clark. "The election isn't for another week, and with the current situation there's no campaigning." (They'd already had a discussion about that, as well as the lack of primaries. Chloe thought that it was an appalling obstruction of justice, but Clark thought that was because it was Lex they were talking about, and where he was involved Chloe always seemed to think there was something wrong.) "We could go back if you'd like."

Both Chloe and Clark looked excited at that prospect. That had been something Clark had dearly wanted for a long time.

Lex simply kept chewing, but nodded. "Alright," he said finally.

--------------------------------

The Kent farm looked much the same, except for the lack of animals in the fields and barn. The paint was a little chipped on the barn, but Clark didn't think that with a little work that it would really be a problem.

The grass in the yard was long and the flowerbed was overrun with weeds. Yet, to Clark, it couldn't have looked more like home. "It's still beautiful, Clark," Chloe said from beside him.

And it was. In all of its Midwestern country charm, it was beautiful. More than that, it was home. Clark hadn't had a home in a very long time. It had been even longer since he'd felt safe. And to be back in a place that for him was a living symbol of safely—it was just a dream after he'd been gone so long.

"Yeah," he breathed in reply to Chloe's statement. "It is."

He carefully moved across the yard to the door. It was locked, but Clark easily descended the steps again and fished under the steps until he found the spare key that was hidden on the overhang of a piece of wood under the stairs.

"Good old Kansas ingenuity," he heard Lex say with a laugh.

He ascended the steps again and pressed the key into the lock. With a click the knob turned, and Clark was able to make his way into the home. His home.

Everything was exactly as he remembered it, only with dust. It was clear that it hadn't been touched by any aliens, and that relieved Clark, because he thought that with a little cleaning it would be back to normal.

"Wow," he heard Chloe say from behind him. "Place hasn't changed much."

"Not at all," Lex agreed..

He had a sudden urge to see the barn. "I'm going to the barn," he told them, a second before he used his super-speed to do so.

If Clark had thought the house was dusty, it was nothing compared to the barn. There was even a small hole in the roof through which some sunlight was coming, illuminating the dust particles in the air. Clark thought it was strangely beautiful.

He ascended the stairs to his loft at normal human speed, wanting to savor every part of it. Everything was how he'd left it. He could see his high school stuff, his books, even a dirty flannel shirt that he'd left out there one night.

It was strange how the world could change and, yet, how it could leave little corners of the universe so untouched. Time certainly hadn't left him untouched, he thought to himself.

He'd done great things and also some things he wasn't proud of. He'd been a hero to some and a rebel to others. But he was sure he'd done the right thing.

Things were beginning to go back to as normal as they'd ever be again. All the aliens were dead, and the war was won. He'd made large sacrifices in the war, just as others had.

Lois, Pete, his mom, his dad.

But the tide of time was coming in and he knew he'd have to go with it. He'd have to move foward from here. But, deep down, he knew he could, and that he wasn't alone in having to do it. The whole world was rebuilding, as were those close to him.

Lex would undoubtedly become president, and he and Chloe would go to college, most likely in DC if Lex had his way. Clark really didn't care either way.

As he moved through the loft his eye was caught by a shimmer of light. He turned fully to see where it was coming from, and was surprised to see a picture on his desk, untouched by years of neglect if for no other reasons than that the frame had protected it and it had been out of the light.

Closer inspection showed him that the picture was of he, Lana, Chloe. But, as he came closer, other pictures surfaced from the mess on his desk. There were others of just he and Pete; he and Lex; he, Chloe, and Lois; even he, Pete, and Chloe.

Time was preserved in those frames, and Clark found himself remembering a happier time.

"Clark!" Chloe's voice rang out as she ascended the stairs. Clark could hear the heavier step of Lex's shoes behind her. "Are you alright?"

He turned away from the window slowly. "I'm fine, Chlo."

"Don't do that," Lex reprimanded him crossly. "I thought that you'd had another one of your flashbacks."

Clark shook his head and went back to staring at the photographs, both Chloe and Lex coming to stand beside him. He gently slipped his arm around Chloe as he looked at the memories trapped behind a pane of glass.

"We all look so young," Chloe said after a few moments.

"You still look young, Chloe," Lex said softly, but he too was looking at the pictures.

"That was Lana's sixteenth birthday party," Chloe remembered, pointing to the photo of her, Clark, and Lana. "We had a great time that night."

Clark laughed. "Yeah, I remember that. Pete knocked over the dip and I slipped and fell. I had a great time explaining away why the counter was dented and, yet, I was completely unscathed."

Both Lex and Chloe laughed. "It was a happier time," Clark said wistfully, his voice full of nostalgia.

"Happier times are coming again, Clark," Lex assured him, clapping him gently on the shoulder with his hand. "I promise."

Clark allowed himself to think back over the last five years. Yes, things had been tough, and, yes, he'd been betrayed. But, somehow, he knew that Lex was right; things were going to get better.

Clark looked back up at his friends with a soft smile, forgetting the last five years, if only for a moment. Perhaps he'd had enough of the past for a little while. That wasn't to say that he'd ever forget the friends that he'd lost, nor would he ever forget what he'd done to achieve freedom. But maybe, he decided, Lex was right.

Never dropping his smile, he said, "Yeah, things are going to get better."

_**The End**_


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